Help Me
by immram
Summary: Post season 2, A traumatic experience turns Tru's whole world upside down, while the aftermath forces Jack to look at things in a whole new light. Possible TruJack.
1. Chapter 1

_Warning: though not explicit or gratuitous, this fic does cover adult themes. Do not read if you think such things are likely to offend/upset you. Otherwise – Enjoy!_

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Jack looked around, puzzled by the carnage surrounding him, half expecting to find his nemesis glaring at him as if this was somehow all his fault when in actual fact he'd done nothing at all to cause this mess. Well, he could have yelled 'look out', but saving lives wasn't his job, especially when that person was supposed to die.

This one should have been an easy win for Tru. The accident happened right outside her building, and all she would have had to do was stop the guy from running into the road at the wrong time. Short of tackling her to the ground (which worked so well last time) there would have been little Jack could do to stop her. But Tru was nowhere to be seen, and the unfortunate Mr Ashworth was street pizza.

He briefly wondered if perhaps she was ill, but dismissed the notion almost immediately. Even if it were true, she would have sent Davis or Harrison in her place. It was probably wishful thinking on his part, but Jack much preferred the idea that just this once, Tru might have put her holier-than-thou attitude aside and come around to his way of thinking. After all, under these circumstances it wasn't entirely implausible.

Jack didn't like to think of himself as a bad person, and he genuinely believed he was doing the right thing by preserving fate – even when doing so cost him dearly. Despite this however, he was well aware that his numerous vices were unlikely to win him any points with the big guy, and that it was a rare occurrence when he was able to take the moral high ground, but he could honestly say that today's victim was one of those people who had done nothing deserve a second chance. He had seen what Ashworth had been doing the day he had died, knew what he'd done to the poor girl who had trustingly accepted his help in carrying her grocery bags, knew that he'd been too busy fleeing the scene of the crime to look both ways before running into the road.

Granted Tru wasn't privy to his inside information, but she and Davis seemed quite adept at digging into people's backgrounds, surely they would have found the same thing Jack had found. They'd have seen what kind of man Ashworth was. Jack smiled at the thought that Tru might have more of a moral flexibility than he had given her credit for – it would certainly make his job easier if she decided to take a back seat when those of questionable humanity happened to ask for help.

Of course, all this was purely hypothesis. The only way for Jack to know exactly what Tru's motivation had been would be to ask her…and if she wouldn't tell him he would just have to revert to lurking in the shadows of the morgue and wait for her to discuss the issue with her sidekick. It was unfortunate that Carrie had met an untimely demise at the hands of her former sister-in-law a few months back, she would have come in useful around now.

With a faux put upon sigh and a bounce in his step, Jack entered the foyer of Tru's building and began to leisurely climb the stairs to the correct floor. He was whistling as he reached her apartment and raised his hand to knock, but the tune abruptly broke off to be replaced by a confused frown upon noticing the door was ajar.

"Tru?" he called, pushing the door further open and putting his head around the frame to peek inside. When no response came he took a cautious step inside. "Tru, you here?"

A quick scan of the living room revealed nothing and a sinking feeling began to settle in his stomach when not a sound could be heard. Rather than analysing why he was worried that something may have happened to the thorn in his side, he moved towards the bedroom, knowing full well that if anything was likely to get a reaction out of Tru, it would be finding him amongst her private belongings. He had scarcely taken a step when he heard it.

It was so soft that Jack wasn't sure he hadn't just imagined it, but after what felt like an eternity of silence but was likely only a second, he heard it again – a quiet, kitten-like whimpering. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he inched his way towards the kitchen where the sound was coming from, each step closer increasing his anxiety.

The sounds got only marginally louder as he approached the small kitchen counter, and he had still seen nothing. Placing his inexplicably clammy palms on it's surface, he leaned over the island, biting back a sigh of relief when he spotted the top of a very familiar head leaning against the other side.

"Dammit Tru," he grumbled, walking around to where she was sitting "just because I won this round, that doesn't mean you have to…"

His words trailed off, and whatever biting remark he might have come out with was lost when he felt the world drop from under his feet upon seeing his irrepressible nemesis hugging her legs to her chest, shaking like a leaf and whimpering pitifully. He took in her seemingly tiny form, her skirt bunched around her waist and her wide, terrified eyes staring at nothing. Scrapes and bruises marred the creamy skin of her wrists and thighs and the turquoise sweater she'd worn at Christmas, the one he'd thought brought out the colour in her eyes, was bloody and torn. Bile rose in his throat as his gaze swept over her and realisation sank in.

"Oh God Tru," he muttered, dropping down to his knees in front of her as shock reduced his legs to jelly, "I'm so sorry." It was likely worthless coming from him, but he wanted to offer whatever comfort he could.

She didn't seem to acknowledge his words or even notice that he was there, and Jack began to feel his panic from earlier creeping back. He was a smart, capable guy, but he had to admit that he was completely lost. He couldn't possibly begin conceive what she had gone through. Surely he was the last person she would want help or solace from anyway. To her, he was likely little better than the creep who had done this to her.

He and Tru hated each other, they fought constantly and their bitter rivalry had been the source of much pain and heartbreak for each of them, yet he would never have wished this upon his worst enemy…unfortunately it had happened anyway, and he had no clue what to do about it. So caught up was he in his self-deprecating thoughts that he almost missed her quietly spoken question.

"Is he dead?"

Though unsteady, her voice was cold and lacking any discernable emotion and Jack instantly understood with perfect clarity what had happened this afternoon. At that moment he decided that if it were possible, he would relive this day all over again. Not only to spare Tru her ordeal, but so he could push that bastard Ashworth under the wheels of the truck with his own hands. She'd tried to save his life, as was her wont, and this was how he had repaid her.

"Yeah," he nodded, actually feeling better about his place in the world than he had in a long time. The usually cruel fate at least seemed to have served some form of justice this time "he's dead."

"Good." Tru breathed, though Jack could sense no real relief in her tone. Silence descended over them as he watched her, not wanting to leave her alone in this state yet uncertain how his presence could be in anyway helpful.

"Do you need to go to a doctor or something?" he asked, both to break the unbearable silence and because he wanted to do something, anything to ease his sense of uselessness. When she just shook her head, not taking her gaze from the wooden panelling of the floor, he sighed. "Tru, you're pretty banged up…don't you at least want me to call someone? Harrison or Davis maybe?"

"No!" she cried, he eyes shooting up to his, her panic evident. "They can't know about this. I don't want them to have to see me like this."

Jack's throat tightened when her lower lip began to tremble, and as the first of her tears began to fall he had to force himself not to run screaming. It was instinct however to shift position and to gently gather her in his arms when she started sobbing in earnest. He sat there with her, rocking her slowly and murmuring quiet words of comfort he vaguely remembered from long ago, and they stayed in that position for some time. She curled against his chest, her tears soaking his shirt as he stroked her hair soothingly. Neither bothered to question whether it might be somewhat odd that he was the one to hold her as she cried; right now it didn't matter.

Eventually, her cries tapered off into whimpers and Jack drew back, scanning her tear stained face for any indication of what he should do next. "Tru," he spoke softly, seeing that for now she had cried her fill "if you don't want to go to a doctor I'm not gonna force you, but I really think someone should take a look at you."

Tru looked up at him through damp eyelashes and bit her lip. "Can't you do it?" she continued when she saw him blanche in reaction, afraid he would bolt. "You were an EMT for years, you know what you're doing."

He just had to agree, she thought, silently begging him to grant her this one small favour. He already hated her, and he had already seen her at her weakest, having had her sob in his arms only moments ago. There was no way his opinion of her could sink any lower, so what did it matter if he were the one to patch her up if it saved Harry or Davis the pain of seeing her in this state? She knew they would find some way to blame themselves and she was determined to keep them from feeling guilt over her actions.

"Please Jack," she whispered plaintively "help me."

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

Jack sat forward on the couch, tapping his fingers restlessly against the phone table. He couldn't hear the water running in the bathroom, so he knew Tru hadn't even started the shower yet; therefore there should be plenty of time for him to make a quick call before she was done. The question was whom should he speak to?

Tru had been adamant the whole time he was cleaning her various cuts and grazes that she didn't want either her brother or Davis anywhere near this and he was willing to respect her wishes on that score. However, his hanging around all night was hardly a world-class idea, especially when he didn't have the first clue what he was doing here at all. He was supposed to hate the girl, not play nursemaid to her. Surely she'd be better off with someone she could actually talk to.

Casting aside any doubts and telling himself that he really didn't care if Tru were mad at him (more so than usual), he picked up the phone and hit redial, hoping since he didn't know the number for any of her friends that it would be someone useful who answered.

"Hello?" A harried female voice greeted him.

"Is this one of Tru's friends?" he asked, absently wondering if that had sounded as creepy to her as it did to him.

"Who's this?" The woman asked, now sounding rather suspicious and wary.

Yep, he thought, definitely creepy. "Jack Harper." He replied, "I doubt you know me but-"

"Evil incarnate Jack?" She inquired so brightly that Jack just had to chuckle "the one I met at Christmas."

"You've obviously been talking to Harrison." He noted ruefully "Yeah, that's me, and I'm guessing this is Avery." He remembered well the flirting that had gone on between Tru's brother and the blonde med student at that party.

"Got it in one." Avery admitted. "So now we're all re-introduced do you want to tell me what this is about? Has something happened to Tru?"

Jack sighed for the fiftieth time that afternoon at the reminder of why he had called her. "Something like that," he explained, wary of saying too much. It was up to Tru who she told, "Is there anyway you could come over to Tru's place? I really think she could use a friend right now."

There must have been something convincing in his tone since Avery sounded truly worried and apologetic when she spoke again. "I'm on the other side of the city right now," she explained "I doubt I'll be able to get there until tonight."

"Just come as soon as you can." Jack told her "I can't stay, but I don't want to leave her alone."

"Where is she now?" Avery asked.

"She's in the shower," Jack began, only to cut himself off when a glance at the clock told him that it had been over half an hour since she had gone into the bathroom and closed the door behind her, yet there was still no sound of water running. While not entirely unusual he supposed, he couldn't help but feel somewhat uneasy. "I've got to go." He told Avery, abruptly hanging up and tossing the phone aside.

He made it to the bathroom in three long strides, hesitantly raising his hand to tap on the door. "Tru?"

When no reply was forthcoming he took a deep breath and, finding the door unlocked, slowly pushed it open. She didn't turn at his presence but continued to stare at her pale reflection in the mirror, he eyes filled with a deep sadness. Jack felt a small part of his heart break as he looked at her, so lifeless and empty, a mere shell of the hellcat who had never ceased to amaze him with her passion and ingenuity. Seeing her like this was just…wrong.

It was clear that if he left her to her own devices she would stand and stare until she fell from exhaustion. With a silent curse at what he was about to do, he stepped forward and turned her to face him. "Don't get any ideas alright?" he told her before reaching for the tie of her robe. She fidgeted slightly but made no move to stop him, so he took that as a sign she understood he meant no harm.

He swallowed a groan as she stood naked before him, quickly manoeuvring her into the shower before his immense control began to slip. He was only human after all, and the harsh bruises on her skin did little to detract from the fact that she was incredibly beautiful; he'd never been able to deny that. He watched as she slumped bonelessly against the wall, beginning to cry with more gut wrenching sobs. Jack stared helplessly for several very long moments before closing his eyes tightly and swearing to himself.

"You're paying the dry cleaning bill for these jeans." He joked weakly as he shrugged off this leather jacket, followed by his button down over shirt and his t-shirt. Mentally counting to ten to calm his nerves as he pulled off his boots, he then stood and climbed into the shower behind her clad in just his jeans.

As gently as he could given the limited space, he pulled her to her feet and let her collapse against his chest, stroking her hair and murmuring comforting nothings as she cried out the pain and anger at what had been done to her. When she finally calmed, she raised her head and gave him a tentative smile. It wasn't much, just the barest quirk of her lips, but it was the first he had seen from her since he had arrived and as such he was encouraged that she could come back from this eventually.

"Feel any better?" He asked softly.

"Not really," she answered wistfully, her voice raw from crying "but I don't feel so…" she trailed off; unsure how to explain just how she was feeling, there was no way of describing it unless you'd been there.

Jack just nodded his understanding. "I'll let you finish up in here."

"Oh…right." Tru mumbled, suddenly noticing the position she and Jack were in. She could feel her cheeks burning as Jack disentangled himself, but if he detected her embarrassment he at least had the good grace not to comment on it. In fact, so concerned was she about her own awkwardness, Tru failed to notice that he couldn't quite meet her eyes when he turned back to her.

"I don't suppose you've got some sweatpants or something I could borrow while my jeans dry?" he gestured towards the sodden denim now clinging uncomfortably to his skin.

"I think Jensen might have left some somewhere," she answered, trying to sound as casual as possible while drawing the screen door closed, "try the bottom drawer in the bedroom."

"Thanks." Jack called on his way out of the bathroom leaving Tru to her thoughts; however, she did notice that he left the door ajar this time.

Tru quickly washed her skin and hair, resisting the temptation to scrub until she bled only because she figured Jack would become suspicious if she took too long. As she let the water sluice over her to rinse the soap away, she thought about Jack's strange behaviour, mostly since it allowed her to not think about other, more painful matters.

When she had asked for his help to dress her injuries, she'd expected him to be rough and condescending, but he'd been surprisingly gentle and considerate. And his tenderness when she had broken down only minutes ago had been nothing short of stunning. Had seeing her in need spontaneously created this kind, compassionate man, or had he simply been hiding beneath the harsh, sneering exterior he presented to the world, simply waiting for a reason to emerge?

Now that everything seemed darker and more sinister, only one thing seemed certain; she liked this Jack Harper much more than the one who patronised her and made life a misery. It was only a shame that he would likely disappear as suddenly as he had appeared. It was surely impossible to be 'death' and a good man.

Jack purposely took his time searching for the aforementioned sweatpants, mostly as the busy work gave him a chance to think without his being distracted by her nearness. Something strange was happening to him, he was sure of it. Before today he never would have imagined being so gentle with Tru, that she would even let him in fact, but seeing her like this was bringing out the caring side of himself he thought dead and buried years ago. He was undecided about whether that was a good thing or not, and he was equally unsure about what it meant. For him, for her, for their respective jobs…

Finding a pair of black sweatpants buried beneath numerous vests and shorts – this was obviously her pyjama drawer – a quick once over told him they would fit and he quickly changed. He absently wondered why she would still have clothes belonging to Jensen hanging around when to the best of his knowledge they had broken up shortly after valentines day, but he figured now wasn't the time to ask. He was looking around for somewhere to leave his jeans to dry in lieu of a dryer when the creak of the bathroom door alerted him to the fact that Tru was done in the shower.

He did a double take when he saw her.

She had decided to forgo the robe she had been wearing earlier, and was now dressed in the button down shirt he had shed earlier. It skimmed mid thigh and looked infinitely better on her than it did on him. Under different circumstances that would quite probably have equated to several male fantasies rolled into one. Noticing his look, she plucked at the blue fabric and gave him a worried half smile. "It looked comfortable. You don't mind do you?"

Struck mute by the sight of her and trying his damnedest to hold back any reaction that might be misinterpreted…or correctly interpreted, he just shook his head. He took back the proffered T-shirt in her hand without comment, pulling it on over his still damp torso.

All the time he was avoiding her gaze, Tru bit her lip with a frown. She wasn't used to him being this quiet and reserved. This was Jack after all – he always had some snarky comment or observation to share; yet now he just looked nervous, like he didn't know what to say to her anymore. The thought upset her more than she would have expected; she had lost count of the times she had willed him to shut up. Was this a portent of things to come she wondered. If Jack, her own personal nemesis was uneasy around her because of what had happened, how would Harry and Davis react? Would her friends look at her as if she were no longer Tru, but some strange alien entity who had replaced her? Would they think this was her fault?

"Tru?"

Tru blinked as Jack's voice blessedly derailed her less than pleasant train of thought and shook her head to dispel the endless questions. "I think I'm gonna try and get some sleep." Anything to save herself the pain of thinking.

"Right." Jack muttered, taking that as his cue to leave and walking towards the bathroom. "I'll just grab my jacket and…"

"Jack?" Tru interrupted. He turned back to look at her where she stood by the bed, his eyebrow raised in question. "I don't want to be alone."

"I called Avery." He admitted, continuing off her look. "I didn't tell her anything, just said I figured you could use a friend. She'll be here in a few hours."

"Please Jack" she whispered, "I don't care if we're supposed to be mortal enemies or whatever, I just…" her shoulders slumped in defeat, her final wall of defence falling before his eyes "please don't leave me."

Jack didn't say another word, he just gestured for her to get into the bed. When she was securely tucked in, he sat himself against the pillows beside her, only mildly surprised when she settled herself against him. Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

Tru sighed, her breathing evening out as she slipped into sleep and Jack unconsciously tightened his arm around her as he replayed the events of this afternoon over in his mind. On the whole, he was infinitely glad that he'd arrived when he did, he didn't like to think what might have happened had he not.

The feelings he had stubbornly repressed forced themselves to the surface of his thoughts, demanding to be reckoned with. He couldn't pinpoint when his hate for his opposite had turned into the something else, only that somewhere along the line his respect and admiration for her strength, her courage, her wit, her undying loyalty to her friends and her calling had grown until he had to shove his emotions into some deep buried corner of his heart. His brow furrowed as a hole seemed to tear in him when he tried to imagine life without the fierce girl at his side.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

_Sorry if I'm moving slowly, but I am going somewhere I promise. I just don't think you can rush this kind of subject matter - thanks for reading anyway :-)_

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Jack was disoriented as he slowly drifted towards consciousness at the sound of a muffled voice near by, and he kept his eyes closed as he tried to remember where he was and why.

As the fog of sleep began to clear from his mind, he realised that he must have drifted off some time during his vigil over Tru. He hadn't meant for it to happen, having intended to stay only as long as it took to assure himself that there was no danger of her waking, yet here he was with his head beside hers on the pillow, and one arm wrapped protectively around her waist. Fortunately, he found himself still on top of the covers. Hopefully this wouldn't be too hard to explain to the voice, which was steadily becoming clearer.

"What the hell am I supposed to do Jensen!" Avery snapped into her cell phone.

"You're supposed to keep you're voice down," Jack muttered, carefully extricating himself from Tru's grip, "she's trying to sleep."

Avery let out a small 'eep' of surprise when she realised Jack was awake and quickly ended her call with a brusque "I'll call you back."

Stretching the sleep from his limbs, Jack looked down at Tru, almost fascinated as he saw her frown in her sleep, her hand reaching out to grasp at the still warm sheets where he had been lying, as if she had sensed his absence and was searching for him. Avery, for her part, watched in stunned confusion when Jack leaned over to brush a chaste kiss against her forehead, an unreadable expression on his face. She tried to school her features into a casual mask when he turned to her, but from his knowing smirk she guessed that she had failed. She didn't know Jack well enough to realise he was simply a master at hiding his own thoughts and feelings and thus able to spot forced indifference a mile away. With a nod of his head he indicated for her to precede him into the living room where she immediately rounded on him.

"What the hell is going on?" she hissed, remembering to keep her voice down. "First I get a call from a guy I barely know, save that he's not under any circumstances to be trusted, telling me that Tru needs me. Tru, who told me that she hates this guy and to stay away from him because he's dangerous. Then I rush to get here only to find that same untrustworthy guy looking pretty damn cosy with my best friend! I think you'll understand I'm more than a little worried and confused right now."

Jack folded his arms across his chest, his usual vaguely amused smirk firmly in place. "You done?"

Avery took a single, deep, calming breath. "I'm done. So explain."

"It's not my place to give you the details," he began honestly, his arms dropping wearily to his sides, "but suffice to say she's been through a lot today. She's gonna need her friends." He told her pointedly.

Avery didn't know why, but something about the way he glanced back at the sleeping object of their discussion, spoke of a quiet sadness that he couldn't include himself in that list. That in it's self was enough to convince her that he had had no nefarious intent in being in Tru's bedroom. However…

"Why are you here?" she asked, somewhat bluntly when he turned back to her.

"I found her and she asked for my help." He told her simply, belying the horror he had felt at the time, though his tone was deathly serious as he continued. "She's hurting. A lot."

"I guess she is." Avery replied sadly. Even from a distance the strain on her friend's face was visible, as if sleep were no escape from her troubles.

Seeing that she had no further intention of arguing with him, Jack walked quietly back to the bedroom to retrieve his now semi-dry jeans then headed into the bathroom to change and grab his jacket. He returned to the bedroom to find Avery having taken up his previous position settled against the pillows, stroking Tru's hair much as he had done earlier. He absently wondered what it was about the gesture that seemed to invoke comfort, but brushed the thought aside and gently sat on the edge of the bed to put his boots back on.

"Will she be okay?" Avery whispered, careful not to wake Tru. He knew more about whatever was going on than she did, so she figured if anyone had any idea it would be him.

"She's strong." Jack shrugged, not looking up from his task.

"That's not what I asked." She pointed out.

Jack looked towards the still figure in the bed, an oddly haunted aspect to his eyes. "I don't know." He sighed. "I hope so. Seeing her like this is just so…"

"Unusual?" Avery suggested.

"Painful." Jack finished. He tore his eyes from the bed and stood, moving quickly towards the door. He paused at the entrance to Tru's bedroom however, though he did not turn back as he spoke. "Tell her…tell her I'll be around…if she needs me. She only has to call."

"I will." Avery told him, smiling lightly, though the gesture was lost on him.

Jack nodded once, and then walked away without a backward glance. There was something he needed to do.

* * *

It was an hour later when Tru began to stir, or rather, when her frantic cries roused Avery from her own semi-slumber.

"No!" she cried, her voice raw and her arms flailing wildly "Don't go Jack. Don't leave me, please…"

Avery jumped at the sound of Tru's distressed cries and hesitantly reached out to touch her shoulder, shaking it lightly "Tru," she called "wake up."

"Nooooo!" Tru screamed, sitting bolt upright in bed, her eyes open and wild, her hair tussled from thrashing on the bed.

Avery backed away involuntarily, startled and a little frightened by her terrified scream. "Tru…" She tried once again to get her attention.

Tru blinked several times, reality focusing in her eyes and she swallowed heavily, turning her head to see her best friend, but her gaze did not rest for long. She continued to look around the room, her hazel orbs darting in the shadows, seeking, searching, needing…

"He had to leave Tru," Avery said quietly, knowing instinctively who she was looking for. "He said…he said to tell you he'd be around if you needed him. He said you only had to call."

Tru nodded before practically folding in on herself, her strength leaving her. Her shoulders slumped, her head dropped, and the life seemed to leave the room around her form. She took a long, ragged breath, blowing it out sharply, and then raised her hands to her face and began to cry.

Avery quickly shuffled over to Tru, pulling her into a tight, comforting hug. She brushed Tru's hair back, only to reveal the bruises on her wrists, now turning an angry shade of purple. She gasped at the sight, her medical training automatically kicking in as she scanned for other injuries. She didn't see any other obvious wounds, but it was possible there were some hidden by the blue button down shirt she wore. Jack certainly hadn't been lying when he'd said she had been through a lot.

She waited for Tru to calm down, her sobs trailing off into a soft hiccupping before speaking. "Tru…if you want to talk…" She wasn't going to push when it was clear that Tru was already having a hard time, but her heart ached to see such a good friend in pain. Tru had always been there for her, and she desperately wanted to return the favour.

"I'll let you know," Tru whispered when she was able to speak once more. She was sick of breaking down like this, hating that anyone could see her in such a vulnerable state when she had spent the last twelve years of her life being strong – for her family, for her friends, and for the myriad of strangers she tried to save. Unfortunately, the pain and the anguish always seemed to hit her with such force that she had little choice in her reactions. "Thanks Av," she continued with a sad smile for her best friend, "I think I'm gonna try and get some more sleep. I'm so tired."

"If you're sure…" Avery began, uncertain.

"I'm sure." Tru nodded, though she really wasn't. "I'll be fine."

"Okay." Avery stood from the bed, brushing imaginary wrinkles from her clothes. "I'll just be in the kitchen if you need me." Though she was willing to give Tru her space, she wasn't about to leave her in the apartment alone when she was still so distressed. With a small wave, Avery left the room.

Once she was out of sight, Tru collapsed back against the pillows, letting out a shuddering sigh as more silent tears slipped from beneath her closed lids. "Help me." She whispered, speaking to the air…to her long dead mother…to God…to anyone who would hear her plea. "Please help me."

* * *

Jack stared at the body laid out before him and waited, though for what he wasn't quite sure. Maybe he was hoping against hope, and the strange laws of whatever power gave he and Tru the ability to relive days, that he would ask for help…just so he could enjoy his death all the more.

He could scarcely remember the last time he had felt such rage directed at a single person, if ever there had been a time. The closest he could come up with was when his sister had died five years ago. True with time and perspective he had come to accept that she was no longer in pain, that she was better off wherever she was now, but at the time he had been blinded by fury that the one person he loved, who loved him in return, had been taken from him. Even then though, it had been anger at the world at large rather than anyone in particular.

He wondered if that was the explanation behind his treatment of Tru today – he had certainly been in the role of caregiver for his sister during her slow decline – but while he didn't dismiss the idea out of hand, he didn't place too much faith in it either. Whatever he felt for Tru, both now and during their most acrimonious of confrontations, there was nothing remotely brotherly about it.

"Hey!"

Jack started at the angry, almost accusatory shout and cursed under his breath when he realised who it was, berating himself for letting his guard slip to such an extent, as he'd had no idea Davis was anywhere near. That wasn't like him at all.

"What are you doing here?" Davis continued, hurrying over to where Jack stood by the cold figure of Mr Ashworth and placing himself firmly between the two as if to protect the corpse from the intruder in his morgue, though from what he needed protecting Jack had no idea. As long as the guy stayed dead he had nothing to worry about. If he got chatty…well then that was another matter. "Come to gloat about your win today?"

"Yes." Jack answered, smothering a grin at the baffled astonishment on his former boss's face. He clearly hadn't been expecting such candour.

"Well, Tru's not here." Davis spat out, his contempt for the man he had always looked upon as 'death' evident.

A cloud passed over Jack's face at Davis's words, but the shorter man was too enraged by his presence to notice. "I'm not gloating over Tru." He informed Davis quietly.

"Then who?" Davis inquired, curious in spite of himself, and more than a little confused.

"Him." Jack nodded towards Ashworth.

"And you say you're not death," Davis shook his head with a snort "that you take no pleasure in killing people."

"I preserve fate." Jack explained for the…well he'd lost count of how many times he'd had this conversation. "And no, I don't usually take pleasure in putting anyone's death back on track. I'm no murderer Davis." Abruptly, Jack turned and walked away, but as he reached the door to the crypt he called back over his shoulder. "But if I'd known then what I know now, I would have killed him quite happily."

Davis just stared after Jack's retreating back long after the door had closed behind him, wondering what had just happened…and why he was suddenly very worried.

* * *

"What am I doing?" Jack muttered to himself as he trudged the final few feet to Tru's apartment. He had no reason for being here – he'd left a message saying she could call, but since he'd heard nothing she was obviously doing fine without him. She was probably over whatever temporary insanity had possessed her to ask for his help and was glad to be rid of him.

He was halfway through talking himself into turning around and walking away when he heard the screams. His head shot up, dread lancing through him as he identified the sounds as coming from the same apartment he had spent the afternoon in and he raced the rest of the way, banging on the door.

An eternity seemed to pass before a shaken Avery answered, Tru's anguished shouts echoing from behind her, and she looked relieved to see Jack standing before her. "Tru's having a nightmare and I can't wake her up," she told him quickly. "She's thrashing around on the bed, crying something…"

Jack was moving before she could finish, pushing past the girl and practically flying through the apartment to the source of the noise, Avery trailing behind helplessly.

"Please, don't…stop!" Tru's cry pierced through him as he ran into the bedroom. He quickly scooped her up in his arms, holding her on his lap as he rocked back and forth, trying to wake her up and calm her.

"Tru, it's a dream, it's only a dream." he soothed, attempting to keep his own panic in check for her sake. "I've got you. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Tru's eyes flew open at his words, at first staring blankly before coming to focus on him. "Jack?"

"I'm here." He told her kindly, looking down into her watery eyes. "You were having a bad dream."

"It was so real." she whimpered, tears in her voice.

"Oh Tru," he sighed, his own throat tightening. "I know you probably don't believe it, but I'd do anything to make this day rewind so you didn't have to go through this."

"Just be here," Tru told him as she laid her head on his shoulder, her whole body shaking and too exhausted to do anything but accept his words as truth for now. "Please, don't go."

"I won't." he replied, kissing the top of her head softly. "I won't."

A strangely comfortable silence descended upon the trio as a much-relieved Avery watched Jack continue to rock Tru, as if lulling a child back to sleep, but the first moments of peace in such a traumatic day were sadly not to last.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!"

Three heads turned at the irate voice from the doorway, Tru unconsciously pushing herself closer to Jack at the unexpected intrusion, while Avery looked between the new arrival and the pair on the bed, wondering not for the first time just what the deal was between these people. Jack's shoulders slumped, a headache already beginning to form at the row he saw about to unfold before him.

"Good to see you Harrison." He muttered solemnly.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

_Slight delay in updating, so a nice long chapter to make up for it - enjoy :-)_

* * *

"Harrison, no!" Avery was the first to react when the latest arrival lunged forward, intent on separating his sister from the man he had hated for over a year, too blinded by anger to see the state Tru was in – that she was in fact clinging to her supposed enemy quite tightly. 

"Avery stay out of this." Harrison snapped, attempting to break free from her iron grip on his arm. "You don't know him, you don't know what he's capable of!"

"Maybe not." Avery conceded, trying desperately to divert Harrison's attention long enough for Jack to separate himself from Tru, hoping that he might calm down if the pair weren't so closely entwined. "But Tru wants him here and since this is her place I think she has the right to decide."

"Are you nuts?" Harrison asked her, finally turning away from the tableaux in front of him to stare at the med student in disbelief. "It's all some act. He's probably got her brainwashed or Hypnotised or something."

"Hypnotised?" Jack questioned from the bed where he had managed to get Tru off his lap and sitting just beside him, though he placed his hand on her back out of Harrison's view, discreetly reassuring her of his presence. "Who do you think I am, Paul McKenna?"

"I think you're Satan's butt monkey." Harrison retorted, though as suspected he did seem marginally calmer at seeing the distance between he and Tru re-established. "Now why doesn't someone answer my question and tell me what the hell is going on here?"

Avery shrugged helplessly as he looked at her, almost as in the dark as he was about this whole situation, more so if you took into account she had no idea what the big deal was about Jack's being there. Turning his eyes back to the bed, Harrison noted with some curiosity the almost anxious look on Jack's face as he gazed at Tru, clearly unwilling to speak unless she wanted him to. Part of him wanted to cheer that his sister seemed to have found a way of keeping Jack well behaved, while the part that took in her tear stained face and drawn expression, couldn't help but be consumed by a gut wrenching worry. Whatever was going on, it had to be bad if she was getting sympathy from Jack of all people…though if he tired hard enough Harrison was sure he could find a way to make it all Jack's fault.

"Tru…" he prompted gently, realising for the first time that she hadn't uttered a word since his arrival. "Tru what's going on?"

"Just leave it Harry." Tru whispered hoarsely, staring at her hands as she twisted them in her lap. "Please."

"You know I can't do that Tru." Harrison told her quietly, dropping to a crouch in front of her and trying to look into her eyes as Jack tactfully shuffled over, giving them a little more space. "You're my sister, it's my job to look out for you, just like you look out for me."

It must have been the pleading tone of his voice that broke Tru's resolve, and with a shaky breath, she nodded her head. "Can you just give me a minute?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself. "I want to get changed."

"Sure." Harrison agreed, rising to his feet, though he did not move from his position, instead looking down at Jack with a pointed frown.

"Do you want me to leave you guys to talk?" Jack asked Tru quietly, more for Harrison's benefit than anything as he stood to go with the others.

"No," she replied, her voice still shaking. She could almost feel Harrison's reproachful glare, but she ignored it for now. If she was going to do this then she was going to need the support of her…well…whatever the hell Jack was to her, "please stay."

Jack nodded and gave her a small, encouraging smile as he left the room, closely followed by Avery. Harrison lingered a moment or two longer than the others, a contemplative expression on his face as he studied his sister, but he too eventually turned at headed to the kitchen.

Tru moved mechanically around her room as she looked for clothes – something comfortable and baggy – trying to figure out how she was going to do this. Though she knew it was likely impossible, she'd had every intention of keeping what had happened to herself, and oddly, she'd trusted Jack to keep her confidence. But she knew Harry well enough to realise that there was no way he was going to let her off with a watered down version of events. He would want to know exactly what had happened, and why in the hell Jack was involved in any way, shape or form.

She sighed as she pulled on a shapeless pair of pyjama pants, silently begging any higher power that would listen to give her the strength for what she was about to do, and padded towards the kitchen. She stopped however, before she would have come into sight of the three dotted around the room, studying them unnoticed.

Harrison was sat at the island; his chin resting in his palm as the fingers of his other hand beat a discordant rhythm on the counter. His gaze was fixed firmly on Jack, his eyes narrowed with both suspicion and annoyance. Jack seemed perfectly aware, yet entirely unfazed by the almost palpable loathing being directed his way as he casually leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his amused smirk out in full force. Usually that smirk irritated the hell out of Tru, but now she welcomed it for the only sense of normality it offered in a world that had turned inside out.

Avery sat next to Harrison, her head flicking between the other two like she were watching a tennis match, just waiting to see which man would break eye contact first. As such she was the first to notice Tru, reaching out to touch Harrison's arm to grab his attention. Her brother raised an eyebrow when he saw she was still dressed in what he now recognised as one of Jack's shirts, but wisely refrained from comment.

Tru smiled weakly as she walked over to them, sitting on the opposite side of the island, feeling every eye fixed on her with varying degrees of concern, each person waiting until she was ready. "Today was a rewind day," she began with a sigh, deciding that the beginning was as good a place as any to start. Avery opened her mouth to ask what the hell Tru was on about, but closed it with an audible snap when Jack shook his head and Harrison threw her an 'I'll tell you later' look. "There was this guy…Ronnie Ashworth…"

* * *

"He's dead right?" 

Jack turned at the sound of the familiar voice just as he was closing the door to Tru's apartment building behind him. After telling her story to her best friend and her brother, Jack standing in the background the whole time, ready to offer whatever support he could, Tru had agreed to a therapeutic evening of girly movies and Hagen Daaz with Avery. The very idea sounding like torture to Jack, he had decided to take the opportunity to head back to his own apartment to grab a shower and change of clothes. He'd been pleasantly surprised when Tru had glanced away from the television screen as he'd told her his plans, a hopeful look on her face as she'd asked whether he would be coming back. He'd been only too happy to agree that he would.

He wasn't especially shocked to see that Harrison had not gone home as he had claimed earlier, but had hung around and was now staring fixedly at the sight of this afternoon's traffic accident. "Yeah," he nodded, equally as gratified in telling Harrison the news as he had been telling Tru hours ago, "he's dead. I went and saw the body to make sure."

"I half wish he wasn't…or that the day would rewind so I could kill him myself." Harrison said tightly, not looking away from the road, mostly so he wouldn't have to see Jack and think about just who he was talking to. He could accept that he had helped Tru after finding her…just about…and he was trying to understand that she still wanted him around even after everything he had done, that his very presence seemed to offer her some form of security…but it was hard. How did you wipe out a year of hating someone just because they've not acted like an asshole in the last few hours?

"I know the feeling." Jack replied ruefully.

"Why are you being like this?" Harrison burst out suddenly, irrationally angered by the understanding in Jack's tone. "Why are you helping? Why do you even care what happens to Tru? You guys are on different sides remember!"

"Just because we're on different sides, that doesn't make me a completely heartless jackass." Jack spoke calmly, using a great deal of effort to resist loosing his temper. He was getting a little sick of having his motives questioned today. Was it so hard to believe that he truly never had any personal grudge against Tru? He was just doing his job dammit; it hadn't even been his choice. Hell, if she weren't his natural enemy he could even…he cut off that particular thought before it could develop - best not to go there. "I wouldn't have wished that on anyone, and I would help anybody in her position."

"Yeah, right." Harrison sneered "If that were the case, why didn't you stop this from happening in the first place?"

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked, his brow creased in bafflement "I didn't know this was gonna happen."

"You see the victim's day," Harrison clarified slowly, as if to a small child, enjoying being in the position of explaining something to Jack when it was so often the other way around, "I bet he did this to some other girl on day one, but today, Tru took her place." Horror and guilt filtered over Jack's face as Harrison continued, realisation sinking in. He felt very nauseous all of a sudden. "You knew Tru would try and save him, but you didn't even warn her."

"I…I thought she'd know." Jack muttered, though he was talking more to himself than Harrison "I figured she'd have checked his background…I didn't think…"

"That's right," Harrison spat "you didn't. You want someone to blame for all this, take a look in the mirror."

His piece said, Harrison turned on his heal and stalked off, leaving Jack alone once more. He'd expected to feel some sense of satisfaction at having found someone to hold accountable, someone who was still alive, someone he could take the anger out on…but instead he just felt hollow.

* * *

Jack tried to rub away the dull ache at the bridge of his nose sometime later. Coming home to his sparsely furnished apartment to find the light on his answering machine blinking at him, telling him that he had a message from Richard waiting tended to have that effect on him. 

"Jack, It's Richard." As if anyone else called him. "You didn't show up to our meeting and since I know the day went our way, you'll understand I'm somewhat curious as to why. Call me when you get this message, I'll be in my office until ten."

It was short and not particularly sweet, as was Richard's style, but today Jack couldn't help but analyse for any subtext hidden in the inconsequential words. The day had gone their way in that Ashworth was dead as a dodo, but Jack would hardly have called it successful. Did Richard really have no idea what had transpired? Or did he already know what had happened to his daughter? Was Richard just bating him, waiting for him to come so he could reprimand him for his blunder? Why hadn't he just called his cell?

Jack was of course fairly certain that Richard would blame him, much as Harrison had done…as he now did himself. He had tried not to let Harrison's words seep into his mind, but as he was well aware from his own past manipulation of others, once an idea was planted, it would soon take root and there was little to nothing you could do to stop it from taking over your whole way of thinking.

Remorse wasn't a sensation Jack was particularly used to. He had once told Tru that a short memory was the key to a happy life, but it was more than that to him; it was a defence mechanism, a survival instinct. He never let himself dwell on the less pleasant aspects of his work or even he, a man who prided himself on having nothing and no one to care about and thus having nothing to loose to his calling, would undoubtedly go insane. As such, what he was feeling now was raw and burning, and it was eating him up inside. He was in no mood to have another load of guilt dumped on top of that which he was already trying to repress.

A glance at the clock told him it was quarter past ten already, and knowing Richard like he did, he had little doubt that the man would stick to his schedule like clockwork. That thought in mind, he picked up the phone and deliberately dialled the number to Richard's office rather than his cell, letting out an involuntary sigh of relief when he was connected to the answering machine.

"Richard, it's Jack." He began with the standard greeting he had for his employer – not quite formal, but not particularly friendly either. That wasn't a word he would ever imagine using to describe Richard Davies. "Sorry I missed you. Something came up today…I'll fill you in next time I rewind."

Jack ended the call as abruptly as it had begun. If Richard did know what had happened, then there was little point in Jack telling him about it all over again, especially when his own involvement was hardly likely to impress. If he didn't know…well, a message on his answering machine was hardly the way a man should hear such a thing about his own daughter.

With a weary sigh, Jack ran his hands through his hair and wondered when exactly he'd grown a conscience. Finding no answer, or at least none he liked, he headed for the shower. With any luck he'd be able to wash away the feeling of antipathy this whole day seemed to have left on him. It hadn't worked for Tru though, so he didn't like his chances.

* * *

"Hey 'death'." Avery called from the couch when she heard the apartment door open, a teasing smile on her face as Jack emerged, his expression a cross between amused and irritated. 

"Please don't call me that." He asked in the most saccharine voice he could muster.

"Why not?" Avery grinned, "It's who you are isn't it?"

"No," Jack breathed, throwing his jacket over a nearby chair and slumping onto the couch next to her, "but I really don't feel like going over the job description again today."

Avery patted his shoulder sympathetically. "I guess it can't be an easy job, it would be kind of thankless." When he quirked an eyebrow in surprise at her understanding, she smirked. "Don't get me wrong, if you show up one day trying to make sure I go somewhere at a particular time, I'm running very fast in the other direction, but from what I've seen today…the way you've been with Tru…well, I don't think you can be all bad."

Jack stared at her in disbelief, but quickly recovered. "Y'know, now you've said that, I might tell you the opposite so you'll really be running in the right direction."

"Ah, but now I'll know that you're bluffing, and I'll go exactly where you're telling me." Avery retorted.

Jack opened his mouth to make a come back, but instead shook his head with a small chuckle. "We could go on like this all night."

"True." Avery nodded. "What?" she asked when she noticed Jack looking at her bemusedly.

"You seem to be taking this whole rewind thing in your stride." He noted.

Avery shrugged. "Actually it explains a lot. I always used to wonder how Tru would know what happened in class even though she wasn't there – like little details of what we talked about. Now I know."

"Where is she anyway?" Jack asked, reminded of why he had come back and that he hadn't actually seen her since his return.

"She went back to bed." Avery explained, standing up and grabbing her bag from the floor. "And now you're here, that's exactly where I'm going. Take care of her for me."

"I will." Jack agreed, seeing her to the door. "I guess I'll see you around."

"See you Jack." She called over her shoulder, raising her hand in farewell.

Jack smiled, waiting until she turned the corner of the hall before closing the door behind her. He understood how Tru could think so much of the girl; she was smart and down to earth. She said what she thought and made no excuses for it – and she earned bonus points with him simply by not going off the deep end over his 'job'. He liked to think that under different circumstances they could actually have been friends.

He peeked his head into Tru's bedroom on his way back through the apartment, seeing that she was still dead to the world, then collapsed onto the couch suddenly feeling completely devoid of energy. He wasn't aware of his actions as he shifted onto his side, pulling a cushion under his head. His eyelids slid closed, and within moments he was sound asleep.

* * *

There were cracks in her ceiling. Little tiny cracks that could barely be seen from her position on the bed, and Tru just lay and stared at them, her bladder burning for her to get up. Her mind kept playing over and over the events that occurred the night before. Tears burned in her eyes again, and she pressed the heels of her hands into them, trying to stop them from falling. It didn't work. She let out a choked sob, and then gave into the pain that was eating at her mind, her heart, and her soul. 

A short while later, her tear ducts empty, she forced herself to get out of bed to use the bathroom. When she saw herself in the mirror, she gasped. Her face was red from where she had rubbed her cheeks, her eyes swollen and bruised from crying, but worst was the pain that reflected from those eyes. Pain that was so deep, it cut to the very core of her being.

"I can't stand this." She mumbled, quickly leaving the bathroom, automatically searching for that which would bring her some relief.

She found him in the living room, sleeping.

He had one arm thrown over his eyes, one leg bent, and the other propped up on the arm of the couch. She absently noted that he had changed clothes and was curious as to how many nice button down shirts he owned, and wondered why she had only just noticed that he never seemed to wear the same thing twice…unless it was a rewind day.

She looked up at the window behind where Jack slept, the hazy orange of early morning sunlight shining through the curtains, and guessed that it must only be a little past dawn. She rubbed her face wearily, then carefully scrunched up next to him in the little room that he had left, her head on his chest, her right arm holding her against his body. Her mind flickered briefly to his reaction when he awoke, but it disappeared as her eyes drifted shut and sleep claimed her once more.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

_Have I mentioned that I love my lovely reviewers? Well I do! Hugs_

* * *

Jack smiled in his sleep, pulling the dream girl in his arms closer still, a thrill passing through him as her leg automatically entwined with his own at his small movement. It was a simple dream, yet filled him with so great a contentment as he wished it would never end. He couldn't think of a time he'd ever felt such tranquil pleasures in reality; he was so used to sleeping alone. He'd had plenty of lovers over the years of course, but so rarely would any of them stay after the deed was done, nor would he stay with them. If they had both got what they wanted, what was the point in lingering? 

But in this dream he savoured the feel of her soft, warm body spooned with his. She turned in his arms, resting her cheek against the crook of his shoulder, and the soft sound of her breath against his chest was music to his ears. The cherry and cinnamon scent of her hair was just…

Wait a second…scent?

Since when could you smell in a dream?

His eyes snapped open with such suddenness as he felt dizzy for several seconds afterwards, and he blinked as the harsh midmorning sun assaulted his senses. Taking a calming breath, he looked down, and then back up at the ceiling above him, then he looked down once more. Nope, he wasn't imagining this. She was still there. Tru Davies, the one girl who was supposed to hate his guts was fast asleep on his chest, her arms wrapped securely around his waist and her leg draped over his. If it were possible to move, he would have pinched himself just to make doubly sure, but as it was he stayed perfectly still, too afraid of waking her to do anything else.

As if feeling his eyes on her, she slowly awoke, mumbling incoherent noises as she did so. He tried so hard to tell himself that she didn't look adorable, but it didn't work – especially since she was still wearing his shirt…what was it about seeing the girl in his clothes that drove him nuts? She looked up at him, blinking confusedly for a whole minute, then offered a tentative smile.

"Erm…hey," she whispered shyly. "Sleep well?"

Jack nodded. "You?" he desperately wanted to ask why the hell he had woken up like this when he was fairly certain he had been alone when he fell asleep, but he didn't dare.

"Eventually." She admitted. "I kept having nightmares so I tried to stay awake, but then I just couldn't stop thinking about…"

She trailed off, but Jack knew what she meant and unconsciously, he tightened his arms around her. Tru noticed his actions, though he did not, and she took some solace in his silent show of support. When it was such a natural, instinctive reaction, she couldn't doubt its sincerity. "I guess I thought if I wasn't alone the dreams wouldn't bother me."

"Did it work?"

"Yeah," Tru nodded, the gratitude in her eyes clear "thank you."

"I didn't even know I was doing anything," Jack shrugged, both touched and a little uncomfortable at hearing the first ever genuine thanks she had given him, "but you still owe me one."

"Typical Jack," she noted wryly "always thinking of yourself."

"Wouldn't want you thinking I'd been replaced by some alien impostor now, would I?" He grinned in return. It was nice, this easy banter without any of their usual malice and subtext, and he ached to think it wouldn't last.

They stayed in comfortable silence for a while, over two hours in fact, neither willing to break the air of peace that was surrounding them, each knowing that such a moment might never be theirs again. Unfortunately, reality intruded much too soon, the sudden ringing of the phone reminding them of the outside world that demanded their attention. Neither acknowledged the cold that seeped into their limbs as Tru reluctantly, wordlessly withdrew from his embrace and padded over to the phone in her bedroom, Jack sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, mostly to prevent his hands from reaching out and pulling her back to him as they itched to do.

He leaned back against the cushions once she was safely out of sight, silently contemplating the fact that last night had been the best sleep he'd had in longer than he could remember, and he had a feeling that it had nothing to do with Tru's couch being so comfortable.

He had however, been afflicted by the strangest dreams.

He had found himself on top of the Edison tower, a place he had actually vowed to himself never to return to, and he had once more had Megan within his grasp, begging him to pull her to safety. At some point however, the image of her face had wavered, only to be replaced by that of Tru. It was had become she who grasped his hand so tightly, pleading for his help.

Yet again he had whispered words of apology, though this time he hadn't been apologising for his weakness, for his inability to turn from his calling. This time he had been truly helpless as he struggled vainly to pull her away from danger, his grip simply not solid enough to hold on.

Again and again she would slip from his grasp to plunge into a dark void that had inexplicably replaced the ground, and he would always turn in shock and despair to find himself faced with the accusatory glare of Harrison, or Davis. Once or twice he had come face to face with Richard, or even himself, but not once did he manage to save her.

Though Jack had never really been one to place much faith in the meaning of dreams, he was still somewhat unsettled by the whole thing. It had only been that last dream, which it obviously turned out wasn't a dream at all, that had been in anyway enjoyable or something he particularly wanted to remember. He wasn't entirely sure which was the more screwed up – that he actually wanted to keep the memory of waking up with Tru in arms, or that his subconscious seemed to be telling him that he simply wasn't meant to be her saviour…and that he was in point of fact disturbed by that knowledge. Was this what guilt did to a person? He had very little experience to go on.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Tru emerged from the bedroom, nervously chewing her bottom lip. "That was Davis." Jack nodded, having expected as much. He was actually rather surprised that the man hadn't called earlier, especially after his visit to the crypt yesterday. "He wants me to go into the morgue…he sounded kind of worried."

"You want me to come with you?" Jack winced at the hopeful tone of his voice, but the words had escaped him without his thinking, as if they'd had a will of their own.

"You…you'd do that?" Tru blinked incredulously, too stunned to take in his vaguely disgusted expression – it wasn't aimed at her anyway. She'd actually been half expecting him to be gone by the time she returned, figuring that he had to have reached his 'nice' quota for at least the next year. He had been so…sweet this morning, not being at all coarse or condescending as many men might have been had they woken up in a similar situation. Though it was somewhat scary to admit, she didn't really want this secure bubble of calm they were floating in to pop just yet

"I've got nothing better to do." Jack shrugged nonchalantly, or at least that was what he was going for.

Tru just smiled softly, not fooled for a second. "Thanks," she said "that would be nice."

As they left the apartment building some time later, Tru paused, staring at the spot where Ashworth had met his demise, a look on her face that Jack couldn't identify. She had seemed much better this morning, though Jack didn't kid himself into thinking that the whole incident had been put behind her as she so desperately tried to pretend. He'd suspected that the real tests of her strength were yet to come, and the part of him that was growing increasingly harder to ignore, was hopeful that he would be there to help her through them, like he was now.

"So are we taking one car?" he asked, drawing her attention away from the road, "Or do you still have that thing about getting into a car with a guy who kills people for a living?"

His plan of distraction worked as she visibly gathered herself, though her smile as she replied was shaky at best. "I think I can bend the rules just this once."

* * *

Davis was waiting as Tru pushed open the door to the morgue, looking immensely relieved to see her standing before him, apparently alive and well. "Thank God," he breathed, rushing over to her "I was so worried when Harrison didn't call back and-" 

Davis abruptly broke off, stopping dead in his tracks when Jack appeared several steps behind her, his gaze flicking between the two and his brow furrowed in confusion. Tru's eyes fell to the floor and she bit her lip; something Jack was beginning to think must be a nervous habit of hers.

"Hey Davis," he greeted when nobody else moved to break the silence, "have we missed the tea party?"

Davis narrowed his eyes while Tru, who understood his jibe, shot him a 'behave' glare, but Jack just smiled sweetly. A tiny voice in the back of his head asked why he was being like this, possibly loosing any ground he might have gained with Tru by reverting to his usual jerk-like self, but it was as if he couldn't help it. It had been surprisingly easy to be a different person when it was just he and Tru, when he could see that she needed him to be that other version of himself. But being in front of people like Davis who he knew would always question his motives, no matter how altruistic they were, brought out the asshole in him.

"Tru, can we talk?" Davis spoke at last, grabbing her arm and dragging her away to his office without waiting for her to reply.

Jack made no move to follow, just muttering about his almost feeling unwanted instead. He knew that his comment had been heard when Tru looked back at him, her eyes burning into his. Davis slammed the door behind them, but not before Jack caught the brief flicker of hurt that passed across her face as she gazed at him, and it hit him far harder than any physical blow might have. He knew he shouldn't care, that he should probably be glad; but instead, that new guilty feeling he had been getting a lot over the last few hours was intensified at the thought that he had somehow let her down…again.

With a muttered curse at his becoming soft, he idly strolled around standards, running his fingers across the equipment he had at one time been used to using. At least, to the casual observer, his movements would have seemed idle. In reality, he was simply trying to find a vantage point that would allow him a glimpse through the gaps in the blinds of the office. Davis might have stopped him from hearing their conversation, but fortunately, Jack prided himself on being quite a proficient lip reader.

"Tru, what are you doing?" Davis demanded the moment the door was closed. "What the hell is Jack doing here?"

"He's…helping me?" Tru offered, though it sounded more like a question than a real answer, despite its truth. How could she explain to Davis something she didn't even understand herself? That despite everything that had happened between them in the past, Jack seemed to be the only person she felt safe with now, the only one with whom she didn't feel the need to always be strong when she just wanted to fall apart.

"I don't get it Tru. After loosing Mr Ashworth to him yesterday I would have thought…" He trailed off when he saw her pale at the mention of yesterday's victim, the look on her face more than just the usual anguish at having lost another round to her nemesis. "Tru…"

"Please don't, D." She whispered, her eyes beseeching. She wasn't ready to do this again so soon, to recount the whole sordid tale to yet another person she was close to. Didn't people understand that she felt humiliated and degraded every time she had to say those words? That all she wanted was to be able to deal with this in her own time, to tell whom she wanted, when she was ready? When she could think, let alone talk about it without dissolving into a blubbering wreck. "I swear one day I'll tell you everything, but right now just please believe me when I say Jack isn't here to cause trouble and that I need him here."

Davis looked torn as he stared at her; half of him wanting to do as she said, while the other half was unable to let go of his suspicion and curiosity. She seemed genuinely convinced of what she was saying, but Jack had never given him a single reason to trust him, and Davis saw it was his job to be objective when Tru couldn't be. "I-"

Whatever Davis was about to say was cut short by an almighty crash from standards, and his head whipped around so fast Tru was sure he must have been dizzy. When he opened the office door, it wasn't much of a shocker for her to peer over his shoulder to see Jack stood amidst the wreckage of what was once very expensive Digital Autopsy Capture equipment.

"Oops." He said simply, wearing an expression so pious it would have befit a choirboy.

The impending inquisition forgotten, Davis rushed out of the office, looking very much like he was about to cry as he dropped to his knees in the vain hope of finding something salvageable. Tru would have joined in with Davis' frantic ranting about the wanton destruction of property were it not for the look Jack directed at her once Davis was fully occupied amongst the debris - a cross between contrite and concerned. Tru understood then, that this was his unique way of making amends for his earlier mildly obnoxious behaviour. Somehow he had known that she had needed a distraction, and he had provided one in the only way he could.

Was it insane that she felt grateful, despite the trouble he had caused for Davis? It was Jack after all, could she really expect him to pass up the chance at making a nuisance of himself?

There was no time for her question to be answered however, as at that moment, she felt a very familiar shiver run up her spine, and from the widening of his eyes, she knew that Jack had felt it too. The young man, laid out and waiting to be scanned with the recently wrecked equipment was the only body visible, but still Tru was only able to get the briefest glimpse of his features as his head turned.

"Save me." The nameless man pleaded.

The last thought in Tru's mind as she felt herself yanked back through the day that had barely begun, was that at least Davis' camera would be okay now.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

_Me, I either love this chapter or hate it depending on my mood - hopefully you guys are in a better mood than me :-) Oh, and excuse Tru's language, she is a little upset y'know._

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"What was his name?" Tru demanded the moment she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in her robe with a towel around her hair. Perhaps she should have dressed before having this conversation, but since Jack had seen pretty much all she had to offer only yesterday, there seemed little need for any false modesty.

This time when she had woken, only twenty minutes before, there was no sense of contentment, no warmth. The comfortable silence from the first time they had woken up together was gone, replaced with an awkward stillness that neither had known how to break. Eventually, unable to stand the tension she had felt running through each of them, she had stood stiffly and marched to the shower without a word.

Jack, having not been able to force himself to leave, had moved to the kitchen, looking up from his coffee at her abrupt question. "John Bostock." He answered, knowing exactly whom she had meant. "Tru," he began againas he saw her quietly digesting the information he had given her "I-"

"How did he die?" Tru interrupted brusquely.

"He was shot during a convenience store robbery in about…" he looked at his watch "…an hour and a half. Tru-" he tried again to draw her attention, but again he was cut off.

"Which convenience store?" She asked, now sounding more irritated than simply efficient.

"Masons, on Fifth Street." Jack informed her with a sigh, growing somewhat impatient himself at her continued refusal to let him finish a sentence "Tru, I really think-"

"Thanks Jack," she once again cut him short, her tone dismissive as she moved towards the bedroom to dress "you can go now."

"What?" Jack blinked; sure he must have missed something.

"I said you can go." Tru repeated, turning only briefly to glance at him as she spoke "I know enough about the victim to save him. There's no need for you to hang around anymore."

"You're kidding right?" Jack stared at her, incredulous, a sense of déjà vu sweeping over him. He swore if she told him it was 'nothing personal' he might just have to wring her pretty little neck. "That's it? After last night, after this morning…the first time anyway," he corrected himself "it's just; so long Jack, it's been a blast, don't let the door hit you in the ass on your way out?"

"What were you expecting?" Tru called from where she had now disappeared into the bedroom. "A nice cosy breakfast for two? Yeah, you were really decent and I appreciate it, but that was yesterday."

"So what," Jack continued, feeling his anger slowly rising at her easy dismissal of events, "today everything goes back to normal as if yesterday never happened? Well I've got news for you Tru, it did happen and your running around acting like everything is fine isn't going to change that. Yesterday you were a wreck and correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think that kind of thing goes away overnight."

"Look," Tru replied tightly, sounding none too pleased by his refusal to simply leave "I have a job to do in just over an hour, and it's your job to try and stop me. Unless you've forgotten, we're mortal enemies, apparently we don't get time outs."

"I haven't forgotten anything, Tru." Jack snapped, "But I figured the last twenty four hours might at least have changed _something_."

"Such as?" though he couldn't see her, Jack could easily hear the sneer in her voice.

"Well I don't know," he retorted angrily. "I thought maybe you'd have gotten over your insatiable need to be such a self-righteous bitch."

Inside he was screaming in pain as he heard the venomous words he threw at her, but as with so many wounded animals, it was instinct to lash out, to hide what he was really feeling. It was tearing him apart to think that whatever had slowly been building between them, whatever it was that had been bending, changing, allowing them the chance to not constantly be at war, had been ripped away so suddenly.

Too pre-occupied with his own frustration at the coldness of fate, it didn't occur to him that perhaps she might be doing the very same thing.

"_I'm_ self-righteous?" Tru shouted, emerging from the bedroom dressed in black jeans and a grey sweater that hid her shapely form quite effectively (Jack's first clue that everything wasn't as 'back to normal' as she claimed), her hair falling in damp tendrils around her shoulders. "That's rich coming from you! I'm not the one who killed someone's boyfriend to prove a point. I'm not the one who dropped a dying woman who genuinely liked me off a building. I'm not the one who gave up everything that made me human to do a fucking job!"

Tru knew that the words coming from her lips were borne of anger and rage that she had to answer the calling when fate chose, no matter what she was going through at the time. Fate didn't care that she was hurting, that she needed time to heal…that the one person she wanted to take comfort from was the one person she shouldn't. When he had offered to go with her to the morgue just after they had first woken in each other's arms, though he had tried to hide behind nonchalance, she had seen that despite his complete inability to admit to caring about anyone or anything, he was at least _starting_ to feel the connection between them growing. She had seen the emergence of a sweet, caring guy, who made her feel safer than she ever had before.

And it was just too painful.

She couldn't handle loosing this, whatever it might have become, so soon after having her world shattered by a stranger – so she lashed out, hurting before she was hurt. The cruel, heartless part of Tru had taken over, insisting that this entire thing she'd started by asking for Jack's help had been nothing but a mistake from the very start, while the part of her that had been growing steadily more attached to his softer side was shoved aside, unable to do anything but watch in horror at what was happening.

"I save lives Jack," she told him, her voice cold and accusatory, "where as you, you can't even save those who ask for your help."

The pain she saw in his eyes at her words, though visible only for a nanosecond, dug deep inside of her, making her heart twist, making her wince internally, making nausea well up and giving her the intense urge to vomit at what she'd just pulled. At the stupid, stupid thing she'd just said.

There was nothing but silence for several seconds and Tru kept her eyes on him, waiting to see his reaction. He didn't look at her, instead staring at the wall behind her head, his expression gradually becoming blank and void of any emotion whatsoever – the old Jack emerging before her eyes.

He didn't slam the door when he abruptly turned and left, he just walked out without a backwards glance. He hadn't even taken his shirt with him. And suddenly, as she looked at the blue cotton that she had intended to give back still clutched in her hand, cruel and heartless-Tru dropped back, finally slapped silly for the stunt she'd pulled, and the Tru who had revelled in their tentative truce was free, not quite able to believe that she had just sent away the person she had been clinging to so tightly, that she might have just effectively killed a good man, leaving a painfully indifferent one in his place.

With no more warning than she had been given any other time over the last two days, Tru collapsed to her knees, and sobbed.

It was over.

Just when he'd been daring to think that maybe, just maybe there was some hope that he could repair some of the damage done over the last year, that he could let himself feel something…good for once, it had to be snatched away from him. It seemed fate had been trying to send him a message when he'd dreamed of the Edison tower – he wasn't meant to help people, he just wasn't capable of it. And he certainly wasn't meant to be offering comfort to his opposite. Fate knew it, Tru knew it, hell even he knew it! He had a job to do, just as she had hers and no matter what might happen to either of them, he wasn't allowed to forget that, and this was his punishment for doing so.

Jack's shoulders slumped as he walked away from Tru's apartment feeling far more dejected than he had expected. He'd known it was coming, there was no way it could have been any different – Tru had been right about that. But if that were true he wondered, why did it have to hurt so much to walk away from her?

As he was about to pass through the foyer doors out into the street, his eyes automatically flicked to that spot where he had stood the day before, looking around for Tru in the carnage that had surrounded him. It had been his first instinct to look for her he remembered. Not to go over and double check that his target was truly dead, not to go to Richard and proudly inform him of a job well done. He had looked for Tru…and he had found her.

He thought back to those first few hours – the hesitation and the nervousness as he tried to figure out what to do for the best, the relief whenever he found himself doing something right.

"_Please Jack…help me."_

"_I don't care if we're supposed to be mortal enemies or whatever, I just…please don't leave me."_

"_You want someone to blame for all this, take a look in the mirror." _

"_Take care of her for me."_

"_Typical Jack, always thinking of yourself."_

"_I'm not the one who gave up everything that made me human"_

"_You can't even save those who ask for your help."_

Snippets of conversation tumbled through his mind one after the other, some good, some bad, and some pleading, some teasing. They all amounted to one thing in the end; Tru had asked for his help, and he had promised to give it, he had told her he wouldn't leave her alone. But what was he doing now if not that? He was doing exactly what Harrison and Davis expected of him, as if he wasn't capable of anything better. Was that really who he wanted to be, especially now he had been reminded what it was to care for someone, to have them rely on you, to need you? Did he really want to give that up without a fight, to go back to just being an insensitive jerk twenty four-seven?

"Hey buddy!"

An irate voice from just behind him snapped Jack from his thoughts, and he turned to face a stocky built man in a cheap suit, holding a tatty briefcase glaring at him. Jack raised an eyebrow in question and the man huffed indignantly.

"Some of us have places to be, so are you going through that door or not?"

Well now, that was the million-dollar question wasn't it?

Precious seconds were ticking away as Tru sat sobbing on the hardwood floor, yet she couldn't seem to find the strength to move. It had been ten whole minutes since Jack had walked out the door, sent away by her harsh ranting, and she ached for him to come back so she could tell him that she was sorry, that it was fate that she was mad at, not him. She would promise never to argue with him…well maybe never was too strong a word…but she would at least try to be less brutal in her character assassination of him, if only he would continue to help her ease this pain.

She began to shake as the reality that she was alone sank in, just as Ashworth had told her as she screamed. But Jack had come then, and he had told her that Ashworth was gone forever – because Jack had done his job. It was because of her nemesis that she wouldn't have to live in fear of return visits, or have to worry about seeing his sneering face should their paths have happened to cross. All because Jack didn't have her whiter than white moral code telling him that everyone deserved to be saved, no matter what they had done in the past. Right now, she felt like she was paying the price for that naïveté.

Avery had come of course, once bidden by Jack, and she had provided the kind of comfort that only your best girlfriend could – by gaining sympathy pounds in the mass consumption of ice cream and chocolate. Then there had been Harrison; touching in his overwhelming concern for the sister he loved so well, yet so heartbreaking to see as he ached at not having been there to protect her. But it was Jack who had been there to hold her when that first wave of shock and shame had jolted her out of numbness.

Maybe it had been chance or a coincidence, maybe it had even been fate playing one of it's sick jokes on both of them; but whatever the reason, it had been her opposite who found her, and though Tru knew she could pick up the phone and call Harrison or Avery or Davis or a hundred other people, she wanted the one who had been there from the beginning. She wanted the person she didn't have to explain anything to, who just went along with whatever she needed and had never judged her – he was hardly in a position to anyway.

She thought that it was her imagination, or even a little wishful thinking when she felt a strong pair of arms wrap around her body, gently pulling her to rest against a solid chest, but then she caught his scent, something sweet and spicy that was uniquely him, and she knew that he was real. Without hesitation she flung her arms tightly around his neck and buried her face in his chest.

"Hush Tru," he soothed, stoking her hair and rocking her gently "I'm here, it's okay."

"I'm sorry." She told him as she had promised herself she would, her words muffled against his shirt.

"It doesn't matter," he quietly dismissed her unneeded apology – what had she said to him that hadn't been true? "None of it matters."

Tru knew that a man was going to die in an hour if she didn't pull herself together soon, but in that moment wrapped in Jack's protective embrace, she could pretend that he was right, that nothing else mattered at all.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

She knew he was watching her from his position on the other side of the store, trying to guess what she might do and anticipating what he would have to do to counter her, and she took comfort in the return to the norm that the competition represented. Any other day she might have found it strange that she could tell so easily what he was thinking; after all, it had taken her so long to figure out that he wasn't even on her side as he had lead her to believe, but he seemed to have let his defences drop ever so slightly, and as such was much easier to read. She doubted that it was a conscious move on his part, but she had no intention of telling him what he was doing – why should she let him know that his advantage was slipping? They were still rivals after all.

She had seen the surprise on his face earlier when, after she had cried her fill and wiped the tears from her eyes, she had crossed her arms defiantly over her chest and told him in no uncertain terms that if he so much as thought of going easy on her today due to her 'difficult circumstances' then she would make him wish he'd never been born. She'd told him firmly that no matter what else was happening in her life, this was her calling and nothing was going to prevent her from doing her damndest to make sure John Bostock lived. She didn't need him taking pity on her and slacking off.

He'd stared at her blankly for a moment, then that wry half smile she knew so well had appeared and he'd told her in the faux innocent tone he used so frequently when baiting her, that he'd never had any intention of doing so. Just because she was feeling a bit fragile right now, that didn't mean he'd suddenly come around to her way of thinking. If he had his way, Mr Bostock would be under the tender care of Davis before midday.

She'd almost laughed when he'd then turned to leave with a decided bounce in his step, calling out that he'd see her at Masons just as he closed the door behind him. It was bizarrely pleasing to find that despite his unusual behaviour of late, he was still the same Jack that she knew and…didn't hate any more.

She was actually grinning as she grabbed a jacket, racing out after him, determined that today was not going to be his day.

And now here she stood, trying to look engrossed in the extortionately priced items lining the shelves while trying to surreptitiously monitor both the entrance and the other patrons. It wasn't very long before she noticed John making his entrance with a group of friends – they were a rather conspicuous bunch, laughing and jeering as one of their number tripped an elderly lady who went to walk past them out of the store. Actually, from their rowdy behaviour and thuggish appearance, if Tru hadn't known one of them to be the victim today, she would have put money on it being them who held up the place.

As if reading her thoughts, which with him was entirely possible, Jack appeared at her side, his eyes following her line of sight. "You know what I've noticed?" he began conversationally, not waiting for an answer before he continued, "A well dressed guy is practically faceless."

Tru turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. "What are you talking about?" she asked, puzzled by his seeming non-sequitor.

"Think about it." He nodded towards John and his group "those guys stand out, you notice them. You'll remember what they look like because they draw attention to themselves with how they dress, how they act. That guy though," he gestured towards a middle aged man browsing through the magazine rack "he's in a suit, the same suit you see a thousand other people wearing. His hair's neat and his shoes don't squeak. That's all you notice about him, and most people will have forgotten all about him within a few minutes."

"Are you going somewhere with this?" Tru inquired suspiciously, unsure whether he was trying to be helpful or simply distracting her from her purpose. Both would be annoying and she knew that with him it could be either, or possibly even a little of both.

"No," he shook his head "just saying is all."

Tru was about to comment that he was never 'just saying' anything, but then she noticed his gaze wonder from her towards the cash register. She knew he wanted her to look, so that was probably the last thing she should do…unless he was bluffing, trying to throw her off…

With a frustrated sigh, she turned and saw the very same man from the magazine rack calmly telling the cashier to empty the takings of the till into the brown paper bag he held his left hand. The right hand, unsurprisingly, held a gun. Tru was puzzled by the scene playing out before her, wondering how exactly John had managed to get himself shot. The robber seemed quite calm, even talking politely to the cashier he held at gunpoint and asking the petrified teenaged girl who had been standing behind him in the queue if she would like to take a seat since she'd gone so frighteningly pale. He didn't seem like the type to shoot anyone, as if the gun was more for intimidation value than for actual use. In fact, the majority of the customers in the store seemed more curious than frightened.

"Here we go." Jack whispered by her ear, and Tru instinctively turned her head to glace back to John and his friends. At first she had no idea what Jack had meant, but then she saw it. Slowly, as if trying not to draw attention to himself, John was shuffling forward towards the cash register.

He was either attempting to benefit from the situation by taking the opportunity to steal something that would go unnoticed in the confusion, or he was about to do something even more stupid and try to tackle the robber. Though he didn't exactly look like the have-a-go-hero type, Tru's money was on the latter. It certainly seemed the more dangerous option and as such, more likely to get him killed.

She was about to try and draw the robber's attention by playing the terrified hostage card and screaming hysterically, thus reducing John's chances of being spotted, but at that moment, John happened to glance in her direction and the scream died in her throat, a horrified gasp coming out in it's place. When he looked at her, she didn't see the face of a man barely out of his teens, the man who had asked for her help only hours before. Instead, she saw the sneering visage of a man who had been burned into her memory, taunting her in her dreams and her waking hours. She saw the face of the last man whom she had tried to save…and she saw what he had done to her.

She was frozen to the spot, unable to move, unable even to scream as the robber turned, alerted by the fleeting look the cashier had thrown in John's direction upon noticing his intent. She could only watch as he levelled his gun at the startled youth, and without so much as blinking fired a single shot through his heart. The blast rockedthe unfortunaterecipientof his feet, sending him flying intothe wall ofglass refrigerators, smashing them on impact. The lifeless body of John Bostock slid down to the ground, his head falling back and landing with a wet 'thunk' on top of the large pile of broken bottles that now covered the floor around him.

The robber looked at his handy work dispassionately, then picked up his bag now full of money, and walked calmly out of the store as if he'd just bought a packet of cigarettes rather than murdered a man in cold blood.

"What the hell was that Tru?" Jack muttered, unable to tear his eyes from the lifeless body. It was hardly the first he had seen, but it was by far the most surprising. He hadn't actually intended on stopping Tru today, despite what he had told her earlier. He would have made the token gestures to make her think he had of course, but he would have let her take this victory quite willingly, if only to help rebuild her shattered self-esteem. But she had just stood there, not moving a muscle to alter fate. Tru however, didn't appear to hear him. Instead, she slowly walked towards John with unsteady steps, pushing her way past his dumbstruck friends who seemed too frozen with shock to protest. Jack followed after her, still wondering what the hell was going on.

"Tru!" he cried, unable to move quickly enough to stop her when she suddenly dropped to her knees beside the body, landing on the shattered glass that surrounded it. She didn't seem to feel the shards pressing into her flesh as she leaned forward, reaching out to take a pulse with shaking hands.

Naturally, she found none. Pulling her hand away as if it were burned, she then stared fixedly at the dead man's blood that now stained it "I…I killed him." She stammered. "I killed him."

"This is bad." Jack mumbled to himself rather obviously, watching helplessly as she began to shake, heaving sobs wracking her small frame once more. When he heard the distant sound of approaching sirens, it was instinct to pull Tru to her feet, scooping her effortlessly into his arms when he saw she was in no fit state to walk – either physically or mentally. "Come on Tru," he told her quietly, though he had a feeling she wasn't aware of much of anything right now, "we're getting out of here."

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Davis was going through inventory on the computer in his office when he thought he heard the soft creak of the swinging doors that granted admission to the morgue. "Hello?" he called "Anyone there?" When he received no reply, he shrugged and turned back to his work, quite used to the strange noises the building made and thus not particularly concerned. 

It was a minute later when he heard another noise, though this one was much quieter, and more of a soft 'plop' or 'splash' kind of sound. His brow furrowed – that was a new one to him. He glanced up from his screen, about to peer out into standards to try and see if someone had snuck in to play trick on him. He gasped when he instead saw none other than a very pale Jack Harper standing in the doorway to his office, his once blue shirt now soaked in a deep red blood, drops of which were falling from hands that hung limply at his sides, to land on the floor with the now identified 'plop' sound.

"Jack?" Davis spoke cautiously, unsettled by the wild look of panic in the other man's eyes, his face seemingly etched in shock.

"You have to help her." Jack told him bluntly, his voice dry and hoarse as if he were speaking around a lump in his throat. "There are medical supplies here…I didn't know where else to go…this was the nearest place."

"Jack, what's going on?" Davis shook his head, baffled by the confused ramblings of the usually cool and assured 'death'. He had seemed his usual obnoxious self during his brief visit last night, and Davis had to wonder what had changed in that time. "Who are you talking about, who do I have to help?"

"Tru!" Jack shouted, making Davis jump at the unexpectedly sharp reply. He'd never actually seen Jack this upset before. Even more surprisingly, to Davis at least, he was sure he heard Jack's voice crack with emotion when he continued. "You have to help Tru."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

_Sorry if the last chapter just wasn't that great, but the one before was kinda hard to follow y'know? I hope this one's an improvement...or at least not a dissapointment :-) Thanks for reading xxx_

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When Tru's eyes opened, the world seemed little more than a blurry screen in front of her and it took several moments for her vision to focus. When it did, she startled at seeing Davis hovering over her, concern etched on his distinctive features. He hadn't noticed that she was awake yet, so rather than disturb him, she tried to turn her head to take a better look at her surroundings, but even that slight motion made her instantly dizzy, nausea welling up in her stomach as the room began to spin and she groaned loudly. 

"Hey, hey," Davis chided, upon hearing her "try not to move around. I expect you'll be rather dizzy."

"No kidding D." Tru chuckled weakly, closing her eyes again in an attempt to stave off the uncomfortable swimming feeling in her head. When she was sure she could open them again without loosing what little contents she had in her stomach, she looked at him in confusion. "What the hell happened to me?"

"That's what I'd like to know." Davis muttered darkly, shifting his eyes to glare at someone standing behind her that she couldn't see. Her curiosity making her forget the effect of movement from only a few seconds ago, Tru tried to lift herself up on her elbows to see who Davis was looking at, but a gentle hand on her shoulder restrained her.

"Listen to the good doctor Tru," Jack instructed lightly as he stepped into her line of sight " just relax for once." He dropped into a crouch beside the couch where she lay; his face level with hers. "How are you feeling?" he asked softly, and she couldn't fail to miss the concern for her in his eyes as he searched her expression for an answer.

"Okay I guess," she frowned, wondering why he was asking "kind of woozy though."

"That'll be the blood loss," Davis explained from his still standing position "and probably a little shock too."

"Blood loss?" Tru queried, puzzled. She automatically looked back to Jack for an explanation, and it was only then that she noticed the dried blood that stained the front of his shirt, crinkling as he shifted. "Oh my God." She gasped, unthinkingly reaching out to assure herself he was okay, swallowing the nausea that her sudden action caused. "What happened?"

Jack gently took her searching hand in both of his. "It's not my blood Tru." He told her quietly, his expression grim.

When she just frowned, Jack nodded his head towards her legs, and Tru followed his indication, her eyes widening when she saw her jeans cut off just above her knees that, along with a good portion of her leg below that point, were wrapped in white bandages. She looked back to him, her eyes questioning, and Jack looked down at the floor, visibly gathering himself and taking a deep breath before turning his eyes, calm yet serious below his furrowed brow, back to her. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asked.

Tru strained to think, surprised that it was so hard to focus her mind, even with feeling like her head had been stuffed with cotton wool. The whole day seemed like a blur. She hadn't even realised that she had closed her eyes until she heard, rather than saw Jack telling her not to force the memories, to just let them come naturally. She was about to ask him since when he'd become a psychiatrist when a flurry of images assaulted her the instant she stopped searching for them.

_She saw Jack standing next to her in a convenience store, telling her his observations about the facelessness of a man in a suit._

_She saw a pale and frightened teenager being offered a seat._

_She saw a young man, just a few years her junior inching his way towards the cash register._

_She saw his face, that evil, sneering face._

_And she saw John Bostock, lying dead amidst broken glass, staring up at her with sightless eyes._

"Oh God," she choked, tears suddenly burning the backs of her eyes as realisation hit "I froze. I saw his face and I froze. I knew it wasn't him but…I…I couldn't help it…I was just…"

She trailed off, crying silently, an awful feeling of immense guilt pulling at her. John Bostock was dead because of her, because she had let her fear consume her. Her logical mind had told her that what she had seen was impossible, that Ronnie Ashworth was dead, but in those vital few seconds, she hadn't been able to make the distinction between reality and imagination and it had cost a man his life. "It's all my fault."

"No Tru," Jack shook his head, speaking gently, yet firmly. He kept hold of her hand in one of his, but raised the other to brush her hair behind her ear, and then resting his fingers against her tearstained cheek, he softly turned her head so that she was looking directly at him. It was an incredibly tender gesture which seemed entirely natural and instinctive…and which didn't go at all unnoticed by Davis who continued to watch with increasing fascination and bewilderment.

"No." Jack repeated when he was sure he had her full attention once more "It wasn't your fault."

"But…" Tru tried to interrupt, but Jack cut her off, placing his fingers against her lips.

"No arguments Tru." He told her with another shake of his head before removing his hand. "Anyone who'd been through what you have would've reacted the same way. I'm sure that Davis," he smiled wryly, his gaze flicking briefly to the man in question "if he had any clue what the hell we were talking about, would tell you exactly the same thing. Just in case you don't want to take my word for it…since I'm evil and everything."

Tru's shoulders remained slumped, not entirely convinced, but she did give him a tentative smile. "Is that some kind of insinuation that I should tell him what's been happening the last couple of days?" she asked wearily.

"Him…or someone who actually knows what they're talking about…" Jack shrugged "whatever."

"Hey!" Davis protested, knowing he'd been insulted but not entirely certain how. Tru just shook her head, grateful that the sickness seemed to have subsided for now, and gave Jack a mildly exasperated glare.

"Play nice." She scolded, though she appreciated his usually twisted brand of humour far more than she might have done at any other time. As screwed up as everything was right now, Jack always seemed to know when to be gentle with her and when to be his usual obnoxious self – it was a gift he had, knowing just what she needed him to be even before she knew herself.

Jack just smirked. "Fine, I wont tease the animals."

While Davis huffed in indignation, Tru rolled her eyes, giving up. "Anyone got any Advil?" she asked when the gesture made her notice the pounding behind her temples.

"I'll go get you some." Davis answered quickly, backing slowly out of the room as if reluctant to leave Jack alone with one of his only real friends, fearful of what he might do without supervision. He was however, forced to look where he was going when he backed into the coat rack, getting tied up amongst the lab coats. He disentangled himself with as much dignity as he could muster, and stalked out of the room towards his office.

Tru could see from Jack's face that he was desperate to laugh at her boss and friend's lack of co-ordination, his shoulders already shaking with silent amusement, but her raised eyebrow, almost daring him to do so kept him in check. When he was sure he had himself back under control, he spoke. "Are you gonna be okay if I leave you here with Davis for a little while?" he asked.

Her fleeting amusement was gone in an instant as she took in his words. "You're leaving?" she asked, not caring if she sounded pathetic and needy. She was certainly entitled to be, and she _did_ need him. It was actually quite frightening how badly she was starting to need him.

"I'll be back." Jack assured her hastily upon seeing her distress "I just have some stuff to do."

"Such as?" Tru pouted.

"A change of clothes for one." He shrugged; not elaborating further, and Tru could see from his carefully blank expression that she would get nothing more from him on the subject.

"I guess I'll be fine then." She told him, deflated, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. He might have made her feel better for now, but she knew without a doubt that it was only temporary, that she would soon find herself falling back into despondency.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Jack promised, reading the emotions clearly written on her face. He stood then, leaning over to place a soft kiss on her forehead, (missing her eyes widening as he did) just as Davis re-entered the room. He turned on hearing the mortician's shocked gasp and smirked at his shaken expression. He patted the shorter man on the shoulder as he walked past him out of the door. "See you later Davis."

A heavy silence filled the air of the staff lounge in his wake, and Tru bit her lip, not quite able to look her boss in the eye. She already had the feeling that this was going to be a long afternoon. "Would you do me a favour Davis?" she asked solemnly, realising that there was no way out this time, no one available to create a convenient distraction.

"Anything." Davis nodded readily, happy to do anything to help. "You know that."

"Make some coffee." She sighed, preparing herself for a painful conversation. She didn't know which she was dreading more - telling him about what had happened to her, or about her unexplainable need to have had Jack by her side ever since. "I think we're both gonna need it."

* * *

Jack's hand hesitated as it hovered over the doorknob, composing himself and his thoughts before he entered the room. He knew the overly bubbly receptionist was watching him curiously, and though she knew it was more than her job was worth to ask anything, he couldn't really blame her for her interest. He'd received more than his fair share of alternately horrified and morbidly curious stares as he'd made his way to his boss's building from the morgue. He could have taken his car he supposed and thus avoided all the unnecessary attention, but he'd needed the extra time to collect himself. It had taken more of his energy than he would have expected to maintain his carefree façade for Tru, not willing to burden her with his own panic and guilt on top of her own. 

It was bad enough that she might find out from Davis just how anxious he had been when he had brought her into the morgue. He was hoping that Davis' own alarm at seeing Tru lying unconscious on one of the examination tables, her lower legs a mass of blood and glass, would have been enough of a distraction that he'd have picked up little of Jack's state of mind at the time. He just didn't feel comfortable with the idea of Tru knowing how frightened he had been by her condition, especially when, as yet, he wasn't sure what it meant for himself, let alone what it would mean to her.

As he finally pushed the door open with a heavy sigh, he absently wondered when life had become this complicated, but he already knew the answer. It had happened when he had allowed himself to start caring again.

"Jack." Richard greeted, looking up from his desk as his protégé closed the door behind him. He scanned the younger man, taking in his haggard appearance and the worn edge to his expression with only faint interest. "I take it this is a rewind day," he observed "so soon after the one you've still to fill me in on. How convenient. How's it going so far?"

Jack tilted his head as he studied the man in front of him as if for the first time, and speculated as to whether anything ever ruffled him. He had himself been called unflappable more than once, but he knew he had nothing on Richard Davies. "It's already over." He answered at last, addressing the last and least complicated statement first. "It was another one for us."

"Two in a row." Richard noted, nodding his approval. "You seem to be improving."

It was as close to a compliment as he had ever come to receiving from his mentor, yet Jack felt no satisfaction in hearing it. In fact, though he had had a win today and on his last rewind, the former had been entirely unintentional and the latter scarcely his doing, and he felt no better than he had done on any of the rewinds when Tru had quite spectacularly kicked his ass.

"Actually," he replied, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears "it had nothing to do with me."

Richard looked at him with renewed interest then, an eyebrow raised in question, and all Jack could think was that it was a habit that his daughter had inherited. "What are you saying Jack?" he prompted in the infuriatingly cool manner that Jack had become accustomed to hearing.

"It was Tru…" Jack trailed off, trying to find some way of wording the news that wouldn't sound too unpleasant. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. "Something happened on that last rewind-"

"If you're talking about the incident with Mr Ashworth," Richard interrupted, steepling his fingers under his chin and leaning his elbows on his desk, watching Jack intently "I already know."

"You know." Jack repeated, momentarily at a loss.

"Of course." Richard nodded, as if it should have been blatantly obvious. "Harrison told me."

"Right, Harrison." Jack nodded. He'd forgotten about Tru's brother in the confusion of the last few hours, and he winced at the reminder of the blame that had been laid at his feet. He was about to try and offer some form of apology for not having warned Tru, though he suspected it would be of little comfort, but Richard continued speaking before he had thought of anything that didn't come off as back peddling or blame shifting.

"Does what happened to Tru have something to do with your win today?" he asked.

There was a strange light behind Richard's eyes as he spoke, and for some reason he was at a loss to explain, Jack felt a shiver run down his spine at the sight of it. He had always known that his boss was a man of unwavering principle in his protection of fate, that there were very few lines he would not cross in order to ensure the balance was maintained, but the lack of any form of empathy for his daughter displayed in that moment was still unnerving.

"She froze," Jack found himself explaining. Richard always managed to do this to him, to draw the information he wanted from him against his will "I guess she had a flashback or something…by the time she snapped out of it, it was already too late. The guy was dead."

Richard seemed to consider Jack's words for several moments, and then nodded once. "Good."

Jack stared at his boss, stunned. "Good?" he asked, "What part of this is good?"

"Really Jack," Richard shook his head, his manner both patronising and disappointed "you need me to explain this to you? She's clearly traumatised and we can use this to our advantage. It certainly makes your job much easier if she's emotionally incapable of doing hers. All factors considered I think things have worked out quite nicely."

"But she's your daughter!" Jack blurted, shock most prevalent in his tone. How could he talk so dispassionately about something that had made everyone else involved seethe with impotent rage?

"I know." Richard sighed; shrugging almost dismissively and turning his attention back to the papers on his desk. "It is unfortunate, but it changes nothing."

Jack blinked, staring in disbelief at the man before him. A man he had looked up to. A man he had learned from. A man he now saw was even more twisted than he had ever been, even at his most sadistic. "You unimaginable bastard."

Richard looked up, an expression on his face somewhere between mild surprise and annoyance. "Excuse me?"

Jack hadn't even realised that he was moving until he felt the throbbing pain in his knuckles and saw Richard slumped back in his chair, his hand held up to his nose which had exploded into a beautiful scarlet fountain. He glanced between his still clenched fist and the other man's face as if what he had just done hadn't quite sunk in yet. He was jolted back to reality however, by Richard's bitter laughter.

"Oh this is just priceless." Richard sneered, his disgust evident. "After all this time I thought I'd finally found someone capable, someone who could see the imbalance and do what had to be done. Instead, this is what I end up with." He shook his head with a sigh. "I should have seen this coming after the Megan incident I suppose, but when you went through with your task I stupidly believed that maybe you were the right man for the job after all."

"I've _never_ stopped doing my job." Jack retorted angrily, though anger at whom at this point was anybody's guess.

"Not yet." Richard admitted, "But you will. You will because you're making the same mistake I did. But unlike me, you don't have the courage of your convictions. You don't have the strength to keep doing the right thing no matter what it costs you."

Jack blanched, already knowing what Richard was implying. "I'm not…" he began weakly, only to be cut off.

"You're falling for her."

The unwavering certainty in Richard's voice sent Jack reeling, and he shook his head helplessly. He didn't like Tru. She was condescending, overconfident, and a serious bitch…but she was also a worthy opponent, and sexy as hell when she wore his shirts, and she had the most adorable expression when she first woke up that…

What the hell was he thinking?

More importantly, why had it taken him this long to realise?

Without another word, Jack stumbled out of Richard's office, harsh laughter following him, taunting him. He had to get away from here.

He had to get back to Tru.

So intent was he on making his escape that Jack never saw a very confused Harrison stepping out of the shadows where he had been hidden, listening to every word that had passed between his father and his sister's opposite, and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with what he had heard.

* * *

Jack saw Tru before she saw him as he re-entered the morgue, freshly showered and changed, all traces of her blood washed from his skin, and he took a few moments to watch her as she conversed with Davis. He saw how she patted his arm sympathetically, probably assuring him that none of the events that had come to pass were his fault. He saw the friendly affection between the two of them, and he ached to think that he hadn't been that close to someone in so long. 

But it was when, after clearing his throat to announce his presence, that Tru turned to face him with a small smile and he knew that Richard was wrong.

He wasn't falling for her.

He was already dangerously close to being head over heals.

And it scared the hell out of him.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

"Would it be totally out of character if I asked what was wrong?" Tru wondered from her position on the couch where Jack had carried her after they had returned to her apartment. She could get used to this, being waited on hand and foot, if only it weren't for the fact she couldn't walk without immense pain.

At first she had thought she was imagining things, or that she was projecting her own feelings on to him, but now, as she watched him mindlessly stir sugar into his coffee at the kitchen counter while staring fixedly out of the window towards the middle distance, it was obvious that something was bothering him. He was never this quiet.

Jack turned at her question, his eyes taking a moment to focus on her rather than on his own inner conflict. "Hmmm?"

"Jack, you've been spaced out ever since you came back from your mysterious 'errands'." she informed him, earning an irritated look for her use of air quotes "Did something happen while you were gone?"

"No." Jack responded simply, and just a little too quickly for Tru's liking, and she narrowed her eyes.

If she was honest with herself, she was actually a little hurt by his reluctance to talk to her. Yes they had proved only this morning that they were still on opposite sides over the 'fate' issue – her guilt remained as a bitter taste in the back of her throat, while Jack seemed largely unconcerned by John Bostock's death – but after everything they had been through in the last two days (three if you counted the rewind), she would have thought he might have been a little more inclined to open up.

Unless…

"Is it because of me?" she asked in a small voice, her heart twisting at the thought that in her neediness she had finally pushed him too far. "I mean if you want to go, that's okay. I'm sure Avery could-"

"No Tru." Jack interrupted with a weary sigh, muttering a silent curse at having let his distraction get to the point where she could pick up on it. "It's nothing to do with you." It was only a half-lie he told himself, since it was more to do with his newly discovered 'feelings' than _her_ per se. He could think of very few revelations that could mess with your head more than realising you were quite possibly in love with your archenemy.

The whole concept sounded like the plot for some bad movie, or one of those dramas they showed on the Hallmark channel that he found so tedious. In fact, if this had happened to anyone else, he probably would have found it funny. However, now that he had had calmed down and had some time to let the notion settle in, he'd been beginning to think that perhaps it wouldn't be _that_ scary.

There were a hundred reasons why he should think himself insane for even entertaining the possibility of feeling something for Tru, but for each argument his sense of logic threw at him he had been able to counter with the oldest of clichés.

She was his rival, his opposite – Opposites attract.

They had hated each other for over a year, and the emergence of his 'feelings' was all rather sudden – There was a very fine line between love and hate.

The list had gone on and on, and he had even begun to wonder if perhaps Richard was right, and that it had been inevitable, that he had just needed something to give him a push in that direction. Of course, having never quite felt this way before, that he could remember at least, he wasn't entirely certain what he should do about his recent discovery.

Tru was still the flip side of his calling, and they were never going to see eye to eye over the 'fate issue', and perhaps the biggest obstacle of them all – he didn't have the slightest clue how Tru would react were he to tell her what was happening. She had been through enough already in the last few days without his throwing her into a further spin. As such, it was probably for the best if he kept the knowledge to himself…for now at least.

"Jack!"

"Sorry," he shook his head, realising he had zoned out again, "what were you saying?"

"I was saying," Tru repeated slowly, "that if it's nothing to do with me then what is it?" Seeing his continued hesitation, she sighed, her tone becoming softer. "I know it's weird…with us being rivals and everything, but after all that's happened…even if we're not technically friends…I wouldn't exactly call us enemies anymore either." She paused, letting her words sink in. "You've really been there for me Jack, let me return the favour…please?"

During her speech, Jack had moved from the kitchen to take a seat on the opposite end of the couch and he was now looking at her as if he was trying to make up his mind whether to let her in on his meditations, but wasn't quite sure if it was a good idea. Seeing his weakening, and sensing that he genuinely wanted to tell her, whether he was aware of it or not, Tru pushed ahead.

"Talk to me." She prodded gently, hoping she sounded sincerely interested rather than just nosey. "What are you thinking about?"

"Life, the universe…everything." Jack shrugged, looking straight ahead, deciding silently that now was not the time.

"The answer's forty-two." Tru announced sagely. When Jack just looked at her as if she had lost her mind, she grinned. "That's right, I forgot you didn't read."

"I read," Jack retorted, smirking "I read all about that big soda shortage."

Tru shook her head, chuckling at the memory of their first meeting. "I should have known something was going on with you right from the start. I would have been suspicious when you never took my soda, but Davis talked me out of it." her smile became wistful. "It seems like a life time ago doesn't it?"

"More like several." Jack replied dryly before his look turned reflective. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Tru nodded, though from the seriousness of his expression she had to wonder what she was about to let herself in for.

"When we first met, before you found out who I really was," he began, his tone almost, but not quite conversational "you didn't have a very high opinion of me did you?"

"That's putting it mildly." Tru answered, "I thought you were an arrogant, self absorbed pig."

Jack snorted. "Not much has changed then."

"A little. Now you're a stubborn, smart-ass pig." She informed him, though her smile belied the harshness of her words. "What about you, what did you think of me?"

She had expected some witty jibe about her being a superior holier-than-thou know it all, but Jack seemed to take her question seriously – far more seriously than she had taken his inquiry, and as she watched him deliberate over his answer, she found herself oddly curious about what it might be.

"I thought you were naive." He answered at last. "And I didn't understand how someone who'd seen as much as you had – the death, the loss – could still be so…innocent. I think I envied you in a way." His voice had become quieter as he spoke, as if his words were a revelation to him, as well as her.

"You envied me?" Tru raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why?"

"Because it'd been so long since I'd been able to see the world without it being tainted by cynicism." He said, looking away from her. "You'd be surprised how many similarities you could find between our lives before the rewind mess started Tru; but while I just…lost it…you managed to hold on to the rose tinted glasses. You could still see black and white, good and bad. But for me…everything had just became grey."

After a moment of silence, Tru smiled wanly. "I don't think you've got anything to be jealous of anymore." When Jack glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, an eyebrow raised in question, she continued. "I've been thinking about…what happened…and I was thinking maybe it was some kind of test."

"A test." Jack repeated, uncomprehending. "That would be a pretty screwed up test Tru."

"Yeah well, fate is pretty screwed up." Tru stated, her smile turning to a bitter grimace. "Fate took my mom, it took Luc," she didn't fail to miss Jack's wince at her last statement, but continued none the less "it tried to take Harrison and Jenson, but I still kept going, I kept doing my job and saving lives no matter what…but I guess this time fate finally managed to break me."

"What are you saying?" Jack asked, puzzled.

"You saw what happened today," she sighed sadly "I'm just not sure I can do this anymore, I don't know if I'm strong enough…I think maybe I don't deserve to have the calling after all."

"I think you're being kind of hard on yourself Tru." Jack told her gently, "You can't expect to come back from something like that overnight…it's just gonna take time is all."

Tru peered at him curiously. "Shouldn't you be doing a little happy dance or something?" she inquired. "You've been trying to get me to quit almost the entire time I've known you. What's changed?"

"Nothing's changed." Jack pointed out. "I still think you should stop messing with fate…but I'd want you to do it for the right reasons, because you knew it was the right thing to do."

"What does it matter as long as I quit?"

"There's no victory in it for me if you don't come around to my way of thinking first." He informed her with a smirk, watching her roll her eyes, and then turning serious again. "You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for Tru, you've proved that more times than I can count. You'll come through this, I know you will."

When he had finished, Tru tilted her head, studying him in silence. At first he didn't meet her gaze and instead, concentrated on the now tepid cup of coffee in his hands, but when after nearly a minute not another word had been said, he could stand the stillness no longer. Also, he was curious as to what had brought the contemplative half smile to her lips. "What?"

"I just realised something." She replied, her voice barely a whisper.

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

"I just realised that you seem to know so much about me, but I know next to nothing about you…I guess I just wanted to even the balance a little. Spill."

"There's not much to know." Jack countered with a nonchalant shrug.

"That can't be true," Tru reasoned, "you're what twenty-six? Twenty-seven? You must have done something with that time."

Jack thought for a moment before answering, cautious about how much to say. Yes, he had had a life once; friends, a family, a career…but it had been so long ago that he could scarcely remember what it was like to be 'normal'. His distance from the rest of the world had begun to set in long before he had ever started reliving days.

"Honestly Tru, there isn't much to tell you that you don't already know. I had a life," he responded at length "but I can't go back to it. That's not me anymore." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "After Amy, my sister died, I had no family left. I fell apart for a while, I was so angry _all_ the time. And then one day I just snapped out of it, but by then half of the people I'd called friends were gone…the rest of them vanished after _I_ died. That's when I lost it completely."

Jack had no idea why he was telling her this, or why she would even care, yet now he had started, he couldn't seem to stop talking. "I couldn't be an EMT any longer – saving lives just didn't seem to mean as much as it once had – and without that I felt like I didn't have much of a purpose anymore. When you've got nothing and no one…you just stop caring about much of anything. I wasn't the same person I used to be…like you said earlier, I don't think I was much of a person at all at that point; instead I was what fate needed me to be. That's why I was the perfect choice for this job – I had nothing left to loose."

Silence fell upon them as Jack trailed off, amazed at just how much he had revealed to her. It wasn't as if he wanted her sympathy, he had made his choices and he lived with them…but he had just felt the need to explain to her why he was the way he was. Why he had been chosen to fight against her every day.

Each was lost in their own thoughts of the past for some time – what they had given up and what had been taken from them. This time however, it was Tru who recovered first.

Slowly, hesitantly, she leaned in and planted a soft kiss against his cheek. Jack's eyes fell closed as he savoured the radiant warmth she exuded, the faint scent of cherries that lingered on her skin, and he barely repressed the shudder that passed through him at her nearness. If he had had any doubts left about his feelings towards her, they were quite effectively pushed aside as she pulled back to meet his eyes.

He didn't quite understand what she had been trying to tell him, but whatever it was, it was…nice.

* * *

Jack smiled down at Tru as she slept against his chest, chuckling silently at the quiet noises she made and the random words she muttered. He'd never pictured her as a noisy sleeper.

They hadn't said much after she had kissed him, nothing of any real consequence anyway, both of them being a little overwhelmed at having had one of their most intense conversations to date, and neither being quite ready to address what it might mean, but at least the silence had been a comfortable one. When she had begun to yawn he had offered to carry her over to her bed, but she had reasoned that if she were able to walk, she would likely end up back on the sofa during the early hours anyway, so there was little point in her moving. He hadn't been able to argue with her logic.

He was about to try and get some sleep himself when a quiet tapping at the door caught his attention and he frowned. Who would be calling at this hour? He was tempted to ignore whoever it was, figuring that if it was important they would call again in the morning, but he knew that if they proved to be persistent they would probably end up waking Tru anyway. With a sigh, he carefully shifted from under her, placing a cushion under her head in lieu of his chest, and walked quickly over to the door.

When he opened it and saw who was standing on the other side, he didn't know whether to be relieved or worried. "Harrison," he greeted, "What can I do for you?"

Jack had expected some angry tirade from Harrison at his having yet again found him in his sister's apartment, but the younger man was eerily calm as he spoke.

"We have to talk."

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

Jack stepped aside to allow Harrison into the apartment, figuring that denying him would only cause a scene and wake Tru, but Harrison shook his head.

"Not here." When all Jack did was throw him a decidedly suspicious look, Harrison continued. "I don't want Tru to hear. Look," he sighed seeing that Jack was still somewhat sceptical "you really think I'd be here if it wasn't important? In case you've forgotten since yesterday, you're not exactly my favourite person."

It was more curiosity than his belief that Harrison had only Tru's well being in mind that finally induced Jack to let out a put upon sigh before retreating into the apartment to grab his jacket. Shrugging the leather over his shoulders, he paused before returning to where Harrison waited at the door, tilting his head thoughtfully as he gazed at Tru, still sleeping undisturbed. He frowned when he noticed her shiver, quickly moving to cover her with the blanket from the back of the couch, and gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. An unexpected, yet not unpleasant warmth passed through him as she instinctively leaned into his touch, and he smiled.

It defied all logic, of course. He wasn't supposed to fall in love with anyone, especially her. He was 'death'. He was supposed to go through life seeing but never feeling. It wasn't right, a voice cautioned from the back of his mind, the same one that had been hounding him with the dangers inherent of letting Tru in, of allowing his strange new attachment to her to grow…but it seemed to be getting quieter each time he looked at her. He wondered if it was always like this when you felt genuine affection towards another rather than the usual lust, which had always been enough to see him through before now, or whether this was something unique that came with caring about Tru. He knew which he would rather believe.

A pointed cough from behind broke him from his thoughts and he sighed, reminded of why he wasn't still lying with her in his arms. With one final stroke of her hair, resisting the urge to kiss her upturned cheek only because of Harrison's watchful presence, he turned and walked away, softly closing the apartment door behind them…though he couldn't resist one last look back before she was out of sight.

Jack followed mindlessly after Harrison as the other man lead them down the stairwell that opened out onto the alley beside Tru's building, still lost in his thoughts. As such he was a little taken aback when Harrison rounded on him, grabbed his collar and shoved him against the wall. It was with a great deal of effort that he was able to suppress the wince of pain as he felt the jolt at the small of his back, but he was unwilling to give Harrison the satisfaction of his reacting.

"How long!" Harrison spat angrily. "Was it all some big game? Were you laughing at us for being so naïve? Did you think it was funny to watch me being sucked in?"

"Firstly," Jack began conversationally, his pseudo pleasant expression not wavering as he roughly shoved Harrison away, sending him sprawling into the trashcans on the other side of the alley "don't touch me. And secondly, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Come on Jack," Harrison sneered, picking himself up off the ground. He moved as if to attack again, but when Jack simply raised his eyebrows he seemed to think better of it, "I'm in no mood for your games right now."

"You think I'm playing some game?" Jack shook his head, baffled. "I haven't got the time or the energy for games, not now."

"Right, 'cause you're too busy helping Tru." Harrison retorted, sarcasm dripping form every word. "Because you care about her so much."

Jack clenched his jaw, refusing to rise to the bait. He could try an convince Harrison that he had no ulterior motive for what he had been doing the last few days, but he knew anything he could say would fall on deaf ears. His bridges with Tru's brother had been well and truly burned and Harrison was never, ever going to believe he was capable of doing or feeling anything good. He was, in Harrison's own words, 'Satan's butt monkey'. "What goes on between me and Tru is none of your business." He said at last.

"How about what goes on between you and my father?" Harrison posed, "Is that my business?"

Jack blanched. "What?"

"Funny thing happened to me this afternoon," Harrison explained, though his tone suggested that the episode had been anything but amusing. "I went by my dad's office to ask for some time off, so I could be there for Tru, and who do I see in his office? None other than Jack 'death' Harper himself."

"Harrison," Jack began, a denial already on his lips as a matter of instinct, "it's not…"

"Don't bother!" Harrison snapped, cutting him off. "I know what I saw and I know what I heard…" a wave of absolute disgust and pain crossed his face, his voice becoming a harsh whisper "…what he said about Tru…"

"I'm sorry." It was woefully insufficient he knew, but it was all Jack could think to say. There had been only a handful of times in his life when he had said those words and meant them, but this was one of them. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Harrison must be going through, knowing how close father and son had become recently, having been there the whole time the relationship had been slowly rebuilt. It seemed oddly fitting that he was also here to witness it's ultimate destruction, for he knew nothing was likely to fix this. There was no point in his denying anything – Harrison already knew the truth, or at least part of it – and not even a rewind would help now, Tru was already asleep. Harrison wouldn't forget a thing.

"You're sorry?" Harrison laughed bitterly. "You think sorry is gonna make everything okay? You think it's gonna take back the fact that you've been keeping this from us for over a year?"

"Why are you surprised?" Jack asked, confused once more. Since when had any of the white hats trusted him?

"I really don't know." Harrison shook his head, chagrined at his own insanity. "I guess I just figured not even you would stoop so low. He's our father for God's sake! He was…"

Jack gulped as he saw Harrison's eyes widen in shock and realization, all colour draining from his face. The sinking feeling in his stomach told him that he knew exactly what had just occurred to him.

"He…he was like you…" Harrison spoke quietly, as if doing so might lessen the impact of the facts as they fell into place. "He was like you, and mom was like Tru…" he looked up at Jack then with a simultaneously haunted and horrified expression. "He killed her didn't he?"

Jack could have denied it; he could have claimed not to know. But for some reason…he just couldn't force the lie past his lips as he had done so many times in the past. All he could do was watch as Harrison's heart broke, and notice distractedly that he wore exactly the look as Tru had done when he had found her after her ordeal with Ashworth. He looked as if his whole world had ended.

There were very few times when Jack had felt such overwhelming shame, and he was beginning to remember the downside of caring about someone – you were loath to bring pain to those you knew they cared about because it hurt them too, and when they were in pain…you were as well. In this way, it would have been easy to interpret his next words as having selfish intent, and to an extent it might have been an accurate assumption, yet at that moment he did believe he was acting with everyone's best interests in mind. "You can't tell Tru," he instructed, his voice firm "not yet."

Harrison stared at him blankly "You're kidding right?" When he saw that Jack was in fact deadly serious, he laughed, sounding more than a little hysterical as he did. "I can't keep this from Tru. Do you have any idea how much mom's death messed her up? How relieved she was when she thought the guy who did it had been bought to justice? I can't let her keep living a lie."

"You have to." Jack insisted, taking a step closer as if to intimidate Harrison into doing as he was told. Involuntarily, Harrison took a step back. "It's for her own good. She can't know about any of this."

"How do you figure that out?" Harrison cried, only the fact that he was still reeling in shock from today's many revelations keeping him from realising that he didn't actually have to stay and listen to Jack.

"She's got enough on her plate right now." He replied. "She can't deal with this as well."

"Tru's stronger than you think." Harrison muttered, though he sounded far less convinced than he had been only moments ago, and Jack felt a degree of relief at seeing he was slowly bringing Harrison around to his way of thinking.

"That may as be," he conceded, "but even she has her limits. Now is not the time to burden her with all this extra crap."

"Well I can tell her about Dad…that he used to do what you do-"

"No." Jack cut him off. "You can't tell her any of this. If you managed to figure the rest out on your own Tru would have no problem putting it together, 'cause no offence Harrison, but she _is_ a hell of a lot smarter than you."

Harrison shook his head, trying desperately not to let Jack talk him around, but still reluctantly seeing the logic of his arguments. "How do I know you're not just saying this to save your own ass?"

"You don't." Jack shrugged. "But do you really want to take that risk?"

Harrison's shoulders slumped, defeated. "No."

Jack let out the breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding, feeling some of the tension ease away at having one potential crisis temporarily diverted. However…

"Does Richard know that you know?"

"No." Harrison shook his head. "After you left his office I just walked around for a few hours trying to get things straight in my head…then I came looking for you."

"Good." Jack nodded his approval. "It's best that he thinks you're still in the dark for now."

Harrison looked at him enquiringly. "Why?"

"Trust me Harrison," Jack took a moment to appreciate the irony of what he had just said then, "if Richard found out that you knew about him…"

He trailed off as he recalled an incident from months before, of his leaning over the balcony of his apartment to see a father choking his son to the point of collapse before realising what he was doing and letting him fall to the ground, coughing and spluttering. Harrison had scrambled to his feet and away from his father as fast as he could, leaving Jack as the sole witness to the indecision on Richard's face. It was as if he couldn't decide if to give chase or not, but whether to apologise or to finish what he had started Jack hadn't wanted to hazard a guess.

He shook the recollection from his head when he noticed Harrison was staring at him, waiting for him to complete his sentence, to give him one good reason why he shouldn't go directly from here to confront his double crossing dad. "It wouldn't end well." He finished in the vaguest possible terms, feeling no great desire to tell Harrison that Richard might just try and kill him too.

Harrison looked about to pry further, but changed his mind, reasoning that if Jack did as usual know something that he himself didn't, in this situation ignorance was probably going to be bliss. He knew he had been much happier last week before everything went to hell and he ended up with his own secrets to keep. He'd covered for Tru during her rewind escapades before, but this was different. This time he was the one with the knowledge that could potentially change a person's life, and not for the better either.

Previously, there had always been a small part of him that envied Tru that she was constantly one step ahead, and a much larger part that had resented Jack for the very same reason. Now however, he was beginning to see just how hefty a burden such a seeming advantage could really be. With that thought in mind, he made one last attempt to fight a battle he knew was already lost. "I don't like this," he muttered "I can't lie to Tru."

"You're not lying." Jack countered, hoping that Harrison would be unable to detect the desperation in his tone. "You're just not telling her the whole truth. There's a difference."

Harrison smirked. "That the kind of logic that lets you look at yourself in the mirror every morning?"

"No," Jack admitted "I just don't make eye contact with the other guy."

There was nothing left to say then, and Jack turned away, retreating down the alley until he disappeared back into the building. Harrison watched after him long after he had vanished from sight, every instinct screaming at him to say to hell with everything and to just run to Tru and tell her what was going on…but he didn't. He didn't because a nagging little voice which he usually ignored quite easily kept asking him if he wanted to be the one to hurt Tru that way, whether like Jack had said, he wanted to add to the misery and heartache that she was already struggling with.

It's not forever, the little voice whispered as he finally began to trudge back towards his car, trying to ease the stinging of his conscience. He would tell Tru the truth as soon as she was back on her feet, no matter what Jack, his dad, or anybody else had to say about it.

* * *

Jack was shaking as he re-entered Tru's apartment, and he struggled to get his racing emotions back under control. Remaining cool and calm to keep Harrison in check seemed to have taken much of his energy. He was usually relatively unfazed by anything, but then he'd never had a run of days quite like this.

He glanced at Tru then, still blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding her as she slept, and he sighed. Had he been irrational to believe anything would change, that life would suddenly become better because he'd discovered that he did still have a heart inside his long shattered soul?

Maybe it was insane…but he had never known anyone like her.

Brave and strong, she was charmingly stubborn and fiercely intelligent. She was loyal to her brother and to anyone she let get close to her, and as he had told her earlier in the evening, she had an endearing innocence about her, one that was slightly misleading, for she knew more about life than she sometimes let on. And if she could make _him_ feel…well…anything at all really, then she could do just about anything, including make his world a little more bearable.

Maybe he was being selfish. Maybe he was just covering his own ass. But was it really any wonder? He'd been alone for so long…too long, and while he didn't really have Tru (she had said herself that they weren't exactly best buddies) he knew without a doubt that there was at least the potential for them to become closer, as friends if nothing else. There was no chance that Tru would still want him around if she found out the truth, if she discovered what he had been hiding from her all along.

But he wasn't just doing this for himself. He was doing it for her, to protect her…right?

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

_Sorry about the delay and sorry this chapter is so short and largely pointless, but I've had the week from hell and now I'm very depressed :-( Ah well...maybe some encouraging reviews might cheer me up. Hint hint. Hope you enjoy._

* * *

Jack felt like he had spent the last week just watching. 

He watched Tru as she walked around the room tentatively on her wounded limbs, following after her much as a cautious parent does when their child takes their first unaided steps, ready to catch her if she happened to fall. He watched her as she slept to see that her dreams remained peaceful, and should she become restless, caught in the grip of a nightmare, he would gently wake her.

He watched both her and Avery when the latter called over to drop off notes from class and pass on the latest gossip amongst the group. He would endure Avery's teasing about his being 'death' simply because she was the only person who'd ever used the term without the customary malice and distrust attached, and he would watch fascinated as they managed to loose themselves in the mind-numbing clichéd sappiness of chick flicks…if he hadn't made himself scarce in order to avoid the torture.

He would watch, amused when Davis came over, his gaze shooting mistrustfully over to him every few seconds. He would chuckle when his every move made the other man jump out of his skin, hiding behind a façade of innocence if ever Tru threw a glare in his direction for his teasing. He would watch enviously however, at the easy camaraderie between the two, wondering if it would ever be something he could enjoy – a simple, easy to define relationship without secrets and untruths to taint its sincerity.

He watched anxiously as she talked quietly with Harrison, be it over the phone or in person, catching the apprehensive looks her brother threw at him every time. He knew that were he to leave them alone for long enough, Harrison would likely crack under the pressure of Tru's concerned questioning, having picked up on his distance. He knew what would happen were Harrison to let the cat out of the bag, so he made sure to be a constant presence when brother and sister got together.

He watched the caller ID display on his cell dispassionately, refusing to answer whenever Richard tried to call. He hadn't spoken to his boss since their confrontation in his office, nor did he have any great desire to.

And now, he watched a bartender place a fresh bottle of beer in front of him as he sat in the crowded bar he had once frequented with Carrie, the bar stool she would have occupied sitting empty beside him, mocking him. It reminded him of who he was and what he had done, of how he had allowed fate to take the closest thing he had to a friend without batting an eye. He had made deals with the devil and kept his secrets, never stopping to think that doing so would come back to haunt him. It had simply never occurred to him that it might matter one day.

Harrison wouldn't hold out much longer, not now that Tru was on the mend, and the nice little fantasy he had been building for himself where the two of them could exist within each other's worlds was slowly imploding…yet he couldn't force himself to walk away now and save himself from the later pain. Why throw away what precious few days he might yet be able to have with her? Nor could he bring himself to tell her the truth - he was still convinced that it was in her best interests not to know right now, if ever.

So, he had made his first sane decision in days and opted to drown his sorrows…or at least temporarily submerge them. Being as able as he was at holding his drink, he had no fear of becoming truly incapacitated, and he appreciated that it might not be the most advisable course of action. But he could pretend.

When he returned to Tru's apartment, a place he saw more than his own these days, he would watch again. He would watch as she slowly regained her strength and sense of self, and he would watch his own reflection change as he stared into the mirror. He would watch a softness creep into the chips of blue ice and the subtle curve of the lip – the very beginnings of a smile – that would appear whenever he heard the laugher he had feared might be lost forever.

He would watch resignedly as he saw himself becoming inextricably tied up in her life, her thoughts, and her smile. He knew what was happening, and he knew it was going to hurt like hell…but he couldn't bring himself to look away.

He had watched as his world took the first all-important steps towards becoming whole…and he would continue to watch as it crumbled around him.

* * *

Tru seemed to have spent the last week just listening. 

She listened to Jack as he occasionally, and likely unwittingly let slip little details like his favourite colour or the way he liked his eggs – sunny side up, just like her – tiny pieces which made up the whole mysterious puzzle that was him, that she would store up to try and fit into some coherent pattern when he wasn't so close. When she could think. Neither had it escaped her notice that his voice held less of the cynical edge that it had carried for as long as she had known him, that his words were less guarded and nowhere near as obnoxious as had been his wont before now.

She listened to the teasing which passed between he and Avery with a feeling akin to both jealousy and admiration. She heard the lack of suspicion in their interactions and wondered what it would be like had her relationship with Jack ever been that easy going. From the start their conversations were tainted by her certainty that something was different about him. More worryingly however, she found herself imagining that there might be the makings of more between the pair than a bantering casual acquaintance…more of a mutual attraction. It was baffling to think that the idea bothered her.

She listened to Davis' gentle prodding that perhaps she should consider making an appointment to see a counsellor, that as well as she seemed to be coping without one; she could only benefit from speaking with a professional. She would give him a plastic smile and promise to think about it, but she knew that it wasn't within the realm of possibility. How could she explain the situation to someone outside her circle of confidence without sounding like a total crackpot?

She listened as Harrison tried to laugh, to act as if everything was normal and failed miserably. She couldn't have said what it was, but something in his manner, in the words he didn't say told her that all was not well. He would start to say something, then he would glance away and change the subject, and no amount of prompting from her could get him to elaborate. She had asked Jack his opinion on her brother's odd behaviour, but he claimed to have seen nothing out of the ordinary. Avery had said the same, though she had suggested that Harrison was perhaps unsure of how to act or was simply feeling guilty that he had not been able to protect her. Tru had chuckled at her declaration that she would be having 'strong words with that boy' next time she saw him.

Avery could reassure her all she wanted though, and Jack could claim not to see…but Tru knew. She knew Harrison. She knew he had a secret. And she was sure that if she listened long and hard enough, she would find it.

And now, as she leaned against the wall of the shower, allowing the spray to warm her skin while she struggled to make sense of everything, she listened as Jack returned from wherever he had been, letting himself into her apartment as if it were his own and calling her name. She guessed that he heard the running of the water, because before very long there was a hesitant knock at the door. She didn't bother to call out a reply, knowing that he would eventually come in if she remained quiet.

She didn't want to talk. She wanted to listen.

A whole minute passed in silence, though she was sure she could hear him thinking, wondering what was wrong and why she stayed quiet. His second knock was even more uncertain that the first and she heard the worry in his voice when he called her name, the catch of his breath when she remained mute. When he did inevitably enter, his image was hazy through the clouded glass of the screen door and the sound of his steps muted by the running of the water.

He only opened the screen enough to peer through the crack, to assure himself that she wasn't a quivering wreck huddled in on herself as he had found her more than once, and she heard the sigh of relief he let out upon seeing she appeared fine – merely too deep in thought to be concerned with his anxiety. This time his jeans would _not_ be ruined.

"You about done in there?" he asked, his tone light and joking. "You're starting to look like a prune."

When she smiled, so did he.

As she reached up to turn off the water, her grabbed a towel from the rack – one of the large fluffy white ones – and gently wrapped it around her as she stepped out into the steam filled room. She tired to make out whatever he was muttering to himself as he tenderly dried the moisture away, but it was spoken under his breath too quietly for her to discern.

"A girl could get used to this." She whispered, hardly realising she had spoken out loud until he replied, just as unthinkingly.

"Maybe one day we'll try it under different circumstances."

The awkward pause that followed remained unbroken for the longest time, but Tru was certain Jack's voice was somewhat higher than usual when he announced he was going to make coffee before practically running from the room. She didn't quite know what had just happened, but maybe Harrison wasn't the only one not telling her something.

Perhaps there was something Jack wanted to say as well.

Amazingly…she was pleased.

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

_Again, I'm sorry for the delay, but you would not believe how bad my writers block has been this week. Frankly I'm amazed I even managed this. sigh. Hope its not too bad. And by the way, I really appreciated those lovely reviews - you guys rock!_

* * *

"Jack," Richard greeted jovially from his desk chair as the younger man stormed into his office "it's been a week, I was getting worried."

Jack sneered. "No you weren't."

"Not about you," Richard assented, "but about the order of the universe I was very concerned."

"I'm touched." Jack muttered, questioning the wisdom of his coming here for probably the hundredth time. Unfortunately, he hadn't seen that he had much choice in the matter. This had to be done. "But there's no need for your concern, the universe is doing just fine."

"Are you sure about that?" Richard asked, his knowing tone indicating that he knew something that Jack didn't, but Jack refused to rise to the bait. That was how Richard operated, he pulled you along by the nose letting you think that he had the answers to any question you could think to ask if only you earned the right to do so. But Jack was seriously beginning to doubt that the other man knew anything at all.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." He retorted, though felt compelled to expand on his assurance when Richard merely raised a questioning eyebrow. "Tru hasn't had a rewind in over a week."

"Harrison hasn't been into work this week." Richard announced out of the blue after a moment of silence. Most likely it was an attempt to catch Jack off guard and Jack, for his part was thanking God that he'd been able to perfect his poker face a long time ago. "You wouldn't happen to know why would you?"

"Not a clue." Jack shrugged, determined not to let Richard see him react to his nonsequitor. "We're not exactly on speaking terms."

"Well," Richard sighed, turning his attention to the diary on his desk, whether to actually check something or just to irritate him Jack had no idea. He felt like he didn't understand half of what he used to anymore. "I just thought that with all the time you've spent with Tru you might have some idea what was keeping him away. He hasn't said anything to her?"

"I wouldn't know." Jack shook his head, trying his best to convince himself that Richard knew nothing; that he had no idea that Harrison had stumbled upon their secret. This was all just some kind of diversionary tactic to keep him off balance…and dammit, it was working too. He'd come here for one reason and one reason only, but as yet Richard had dictated the direction of the whole conversation. Just as he was steeling his resolve to tell Richard just what he'd come here to tell him, he was beaten to the punch.

"So if Tru hasn't rewound and you have no news on Harrison," Richard surmised, "Just what are you doing here Jack?"

Barely restraining the growl of irritation over the fact that Richard always managed to stay ahead of him, to know what he was thinking even before he did, Jack crossed his arms defiantly over his chest and kept his voice level and calm as he spoke. "I want you to leave me alone."

Richard tilted his head, watching his successor indulgently. "Whatever do you mean?"

"I mean," Jack ground out, "I want you to stop calling me. Hell, I want you to loose the damn number!"

"But Jack," Richard began to explain, his tone patronisingly patient "if the day rewinds-"

"Then I'll deal with it." Jack cut him off. "On my own."

A heavy silence quickly descended on them then as realisation sank in that he was serious in his demands, and Jack had to restrain himself from pulling his jacket tighter around himself to fight the sudden chill that had pervaded the room. For the first time, he began to wonder if this had been such a good idea. It wasn't as if this was a decision he had made lightly however, he had in fact spent the last week agonising over it. It was the incident in the bathroom that had pushed him over the edge, that had made him see that if he genuinely wanted his more recent dreams to stand a chance at becoming reality, something was gong to have to give. Since he was the one with the secrets and untruths to hide, it stood to reason that it would have to he him. That thought in mind, he resolutely stood his ground…even if he was inexplicably uneasy with doing so.

"You know," Richard's voice was low, "when I was in your position, I would have given anything to have a guide."

"Well I'm not you." Jack stated rather obviously, his tone overly harsh to hide the nervousness he felt at the coldness in his now former boss' eyes. "I'm the one with the ability to rewind now, I'm the one fate needs. I'll keep doing my job, but I want you to stay the hell away from me."

Oddly, though a small part of Jack felt a twinge of panic at the thought of cutting off all ties with his mentor, of truly being alone in this, a larger part felt relieved. He was doing the right thing. This man was twisted and he had become so jaded in his pursuit of maintaining the balance that he had ceased to care about anyone or anything else, and Jack was only now realising how close he had come to walking the same road himself. He had let Megan fall after all.

How long would it have been before he could have heard that a child of his had been through what Tru had, or that anyone had for that matter, without batting an eye? Granted, if he continued to act as fate's advocate he knew there was still every possibility he might wind up the same way, but ending his association with Richard could only help him on the path Tru had set him on – regaining some sense of humanity.

"You're making a mistake Jack." Richard informed him matter of factly.

"Maybe," Jack nodded, "but if I am, it's my mistake to make." He turned to walk away then, satisfied that he had done what he had come here to do. He now had one less secret to keep from Tru...and that was good. As he was halfway out the door, he turned back and tossed one last comment over his shoulder. "See you 'round Richard."

"Yes." Richard spoke quietly once the door was closed, his shoulders slumped more through disappointment that it had come to this than any real sense of defeat or resignation. "Yes, you will.

* * *

Tru leaned back into the couch with a contented sigh, noticing from the corner of her eye that Avery had done much the same. It had become something of a ritual for them of late, to watch a movie during the hours when Jack was absent…or maybe he was absent because of the movie…whatever the reason, this time with her best friend had meant a lot to Tru. She didn't have a life in her hands, nor did she have to try and analyse her increasingly confused feelings about the other person who had been there for her through this mess. Avery was just Avery. Blunt in her observations, but endlessly loyal, and a closet hopeless romantic – as was attested to by her choice of movies.

"If only all guys were that sweet." Avery mused as she watched the credits roll.

"I'm sure the right guy for you is out there somewhere." Tru reassured her with a smile.

"Yeah, right." Avery sighed. "At the moment my love life's as barren as the sahara."

Tru bit her lip before speaking again. There was something she had been meaning to bring up with Avery for a while now, but she had never seemed able to find the right time. Her friend had just given her the perfect opening…but for some reason, she was reluctant to begin. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for what could potentially be a very awkward conversation. "What about Jack?"

"Jack?" Avery repeated, turning to look at Tru, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What about him?"

"I mean," Tru continued, determined to think that the apprehension in her voice was due to her concern that someone she cared about might be involved with someone with Jack's…moral flexibility, "what about _you_ and Jack…you seem to get on okay."

Avery stared at Tru for several eternally long seconds, from Tru's perspective at least, and she got the distinct impression that Avery was trying to see if she was in fact serious. It was a perfectly legitimate question – the pair was always bantering quite happily, and Avery hadn't been in the least bit bothered by Jack's job. Tru was jolted out of her thoughts when Avery spoke, sounding very much like she was trying to contain her laughter. "Jack isn't my type."

What, single and gorgeous isn't your type? Tru thought sceptically, but instead she tried to keep her stunned reaction under control, her tone casual as she continued. "What do you mean? What's wrong with him?" She winced internally at the challenging nature of her question, not having expected it to come out quite like that, but she couldn't help it. She was torn between immense relief that Avery seemed to show no interest in her opposite, and an insane desire to defend him, neither of which she particularly wanted to think about.

"There's nothing wrong with him." Avery countered, and Tru was sure she must be near cracking a rib as she tried, not entirely successfully, to contain her amusement. "I'll admit he's good looking, he's funny…in a morbid kind of way…and from what I've seen, aside from his job, he seems like a decent enough guy…" She trailed off, obviously unsure how much she should say.

"But," Tru prompted.

"But there's nothing there, no sparks." Avery explained, "It would be like me and Jensen all over again. Some guys just work better as friends than boyfriends."

"Oh." Tru muttered, not really knowing how she should feel now that a matter that had caused her so much apprehension had been resolved rather quickly and painlessly. Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed as Avery reached over the coffee table to change the DVD, nor did she see the look the other girl threw towards her from the corner of her eye, a calculating twinkle in its depths.

"Besides," Avery continued conversationally, keeping her eyes steadfastly fixed to the screen, "even if I did like Jack, I don't think he'd ever notice."

Tru felt the hair raise on the back of her neck at Avery's words, her instincts telling her that if she wished to go on living in her…well admittedly already complicated life, without any further bombshells disrupting her balance, it would be best to simply let the comment pass. But there was always that part of Tru that encouraged her to reach out, to touch the fire, to see if this time her flesh might come away unscathed. It was that part which controlled her voice as she heard the words she tried desperately to keep in escaping her lips. "Why not?"

"Because," Avery explained slowly, gently, apparently aware of the weight of what she was saying, "it's pretty obvious that he's already head over heels for someone else."

The pointed look Avery was throwing her way left little room for doubt as to whom she meant, but Tru shook her head anyway…even though she already knew…she'd known for a while. "That's not true." She insisted, hating both how weak her protest sounded and the warm fluttering in her stomach at the mere suggestion.

"I'm afraid it is sweetie." Avery replied, though she didn't appear particularly upset at delivering the news "Anyone who sees the way he's been looking at you can tell, and the way he's been at your beckon call. A guy doesn't do that unless he's got it bad."

"But Davis and Harrison." Tru argued, "They've both been here when Jack has and they haven't seen anything."

"Oh I think they have," Avery said, her look turning momentarily contemplative "or at least I'd imagine Davis has. Harrison _might_ have, but he has this whole defence mechanism that stops his from seeing anything good about Jack. Have you noticed that?"

Tru didn't respond to Avery's question, she was too busy trying to sort out her own head. This wasn't supposed to happen. Jack wasn't supposed to be interested in her and she wasn't supposed to be happy about it. She should be disgusted, revolted, and nauseous, anything along that line where she wasn't in the least bit excited at the prospect. She couldn't feel anything now after everything she had been through of late. She just wasn't ready.

_But what about in the future?_ That annoying little voice asked, the one that loved to point out those things she knew but didn't want to face. _Wouldn't it be nice to do what Jack suggested; to one day try out different circumstances._

A year ago…hell two weeks ago, the idea of Jack…of Jack and her, would have brought her to hysterical laughter or a mindless rage.

Now it just brought curiosity…and the slightest hint of hope.

TBC...


End file.
